


The Words I Cannot Speak

by SunPraiser31



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Everyone Else Realizes it Before They Do, Everyone Is Alive, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Focus on Fluff, Idiots in Love, Letters, Max and Chloe Stay In Touch, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2020-10-21 14:00:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20694710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunPraiser31/pseuds/SunPraiser31
Summary: After six months of no contact with Max, Chloe writes a letter pleading for some kind of sign. When Max actually replies, it begins a chain of letters, selfies, drawings, and gifts between the two best friends.There's something special in handwritten words. A window into the mind, heart and soul of the writer. As their bond deepens and their reunion draws near, letters may help them express all the feelings they're too afraid to say.





	1. Give Me A Sign

**Author's Note:**

> Continuity note: I started working on this before playing Before the Storm, which portrays Max and Chloe staying in contact for a short while before Max eventually stopped replying. This fic does NOT adhere to that. It follows the original game's implication that there was no contact between the two.
> 
> The first two chapters have a bit of prose to help set the stage. The following chapters will mostly be letters between the two, with the occasional prose chapter to spice things up. 
> 
> This chapter beta read by the wonderful [Platon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Platon/pseuds/Platon) and [Randy_sensei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Randy_sensei/pseuds/Randy_sensei).
> 
> Now with cover art by the amazing [Crimsonherbarium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonherbarium/pseuds/crimsonherbarium)!

  
  


Chloe clung to the phone like it was her lifeline. Maybe it was more like how one would hold onto a venomous snake. A bit of both? A bit of both.

Her thumb trembled over the call button. She’d already dialed the number. Just one push and she could hear her best friend’s voice again. Just one push and it could be like it used to be, if only for a brief time.

_ No, it won’t be. It CAN’T be. _

She’d told herself that more times than she could count, every time she’d picked up this phone for the last six months. She just didn’t want to accept it.

“Fuck,” Chloe choked on the word as she pressed the button to clear the number. She dropped the handset on the floor and dashed for the stairs, ignoring the indignant calls of her mother. The tears managed to stay contained long enough for her door to slam and her face to bury itself into a pillow.

She screamed. She didn’t stop until her voice gave out.

_ It wasn’t supposed to be like this… We said forever, didn’t we, Max? We promised. _

Just like that, her despair swiveled on a dime and became _ anger. _She clenched her teeth, growled every swear word she knew, punched and throttled her pillow until her hands started to cramp.

It didn’t even begin to convey what she felt. No amount of tears or screaming or swearing could express the gaping void in her heart. 

The anger burned itself out in short order, but the despair didn’t return to replace it. Instead she was left feeling… numb. Empty. Unable to do anything other than collapse on her bed and whimper softly.

There was a gentle knocking at her door. Her mother’s voice. Chloe couldn’t even summon the effort to tell her to go away. Thankfully, she left on her own after a few minutes of trying. 

Smart, right? To wallow in how alone she was now, then turn away the one person who was trying to be there for her? Excellent thinking, Chloe. A+.

But what help could Joyce provide anyway? She was just as torn up about William’s death as Chloe was, maybe more so. Hard to help someone else when you can’t even help yourself.

Besides, there was only one person that Chloe wanted to be there. Only one person that knew her inside and out, that could make everything feel right, that could complete her. And Chloe had lost her too.

It had been six months since Max’s sudden exit from Chloe’s life. Since then she’d heard nothing. No calls, no sign that she even remembered her so called best friend. Not a day had gone by where Chloe hadn’t looked back on all their old photos and mementos. Yet, even surrounded by so much proof, she found herself doubting whether Max had ever really existed.

_ Now you’re just being melodramatic, _ she chided herself. _ She existed. DOES exist… but maybe she wants to forget that I do. _

Of course, keeping in touch was a two way street. She had to keep reminding herself during her rare moments of lucidity. Max hadn’t contacted Chloe, but Chloe hadn’t exactly contacted Max either. Not for lack of trying, obviously, but… Fucking hell, why should it be on _ her _to reach out first? All the shit she was going through right now, and Max couldn’t even bother to check in? Chloe had to swallow her grief and be the one to put in the effort?

_ Max loved William too, _ a sane part of her brain said. _ She’s grieving too. All those times you’ve tried to call? Maybe… maybe she’s done the same thing. Can’t fault her for that, can you? _

Damn logic brain, ruining her brooding. Next thing you know people might start thinking of her as a reasonable person.

It seemed a longshot, but she clung to it. It was a strand of hope, however thin. Now what to do with it? She seriously doubted she’d be able to make a call if she tried again. Even if they did, what could be said that would make up for six months of nothing?

No, if Chloe was going to be the one to do this, she needed to be able to express everything she was feeling without the opportunity for misunderstanding or interruption. She needed a way to show, in no uncertain terms, how pissed off Max’s silence made her. How it tore her apart inside. How it was probably the most anyone had ever hurt her before.

How completely ready to forgive she was. Good lord, she’d forgive damn near anything just to have her friend back.

_ Might as well ask for a telepathic link to her brain, _Chloe grumbled to herself, sitting up in her bed. The light outside her window had changed an alarming amount. How long had she been in here? Several hours at least? Late evening’s rays filtered through her blinds, casting bands of gold on her desk. 

Memories cluttered its surface in every form, from photos to drawings to CDs and scraps of old homework assignments. She found herself walking over to them without thinking and picked up a tattered piece of notebook paper. There, in Max’s distinct handwriting, was a long and thought out essay of all the reasons Chloe was her best friend. It had been an assignment back in elementary school, what now seemed a lifetime ago. Chloe managed a small smile at how neat the words were, how lengthy each answer was. Even back then Max had been so sappy.

Not that Chloe wasn’t sappy at times. She was just better at hiding it. Usually.

She brushed a thumb across the name at the top, words written by Max’s own hand. Something about that comforted Chloe. In some weird, sappy, sentimental way, it was like having a tiny piece of Max herself. There were pieces of her in every photo she’d taken and every dumb arts and crafts project they’d made, but there was something particularly special about written words. Almost like—

Chloe gasped as the idea hit her like a bolt of lightning.

She was moving before it had fully taken form in her brain, carefully taking her mementos of Max from the desk and putting them back in their box. She threw drawers open frantically until she found an unsullied notebook and a pen. She sat down, and without even pausing to consider her words, she started to write.

For a long while she was locked in a reverie with nothing but the scratching of her pen to disturb her speeding train of thoughts. There was a nervous, excited, _ furious _energy to her hand as the words poured onto the page. Her handwriting suffered for it, especially in the angriest sections. Some parts of it were smudged by the occasional tear that fell to the paper. But it was still legible, so she didn’t care. 

She had many things to say, most of which she would never dare to say out loud. Most of which she _ could _ never say to anyone who hadn’t been her partner in crime for so much of her life. All of it combined together dwarfed any essay she’d ever written, for she cared about this far more than any stupid school assignment. 

By the time she dropped the pen, the sun’s light had nearly faded, and her hand was burning. She sat rigid in her chair, breath heavy, heart pounding like she’d just ran a mile, staring down at the novella she’d just written. Damn, what had come over her? 

Chloe picked it up with trembling hands and reread it. God damn, some parts of this were _ scathing, _enough to give her pause. Other parts made her start tearing up again. This was like a direct window into her soul. If anyone read this…

_ Only one person has to. _

But could she make herself send it? Even if she did, would Max bother reading it? A not-small part of her was tempted to just tear the pages in two and throw them in the trash. The mere act of venting into the paper seemed to have helped some, perhaps it was best to just leave it at that. She gripped the top of the pages. The smallest of rips appeared.

Knocking at her door again. “Chloe? Honey? Please let me in. I’m worried.”

Mom. By the ragged sound of her voice, she’d been crying too. Way to go, Chloe. Stupid, selfish Chloe.

“C-Come in,” she manages.

Joyce’s eyes are red, but full of nothing but concern as she steps inside. “Are you okay?”

_ That’s _the first question she asks? Seriously? “What do you think?”

She sighs. “I’m sorry. I know this is hard. It’s hard for me too, you know. I can’t understand how much it hurt you when Max left on top of… of William’s… And I know I can’t replace her for you, but I’m… I’m trying best here, Chloe. I hate seeing you like this… And I think William and Max would too.”

_ Even she talks about Max like she’s dead, _ Chloe thought as tears filled her eyes again. She’d thought she was out of those. She stood and rushed into Joyce’s embrace. 

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled into her mother’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Joyce whispered, squeezing Chloe tight. “I’m here for you, Chloe. Helping you would help me too. So if there’s anything you need, anything you think I _ can _do to help, please ask me.”

Chloe allowed herself the smallest of smiles. “Even… unlimited bacon at Two Whales?”

Joyce chuckled. “I should’ve said anything within reason.”

Little jokes, her mother’s laugh. A small spark of light in the vast dark. It wouldn’t last. Moments like this weren’t enough to keep her afloat, especially when Joyce herself was also struggling not to drown. But it was something.

And in the light of that spark, Chloe made her decision. She lifted her head from Joyce’s shoulder to look at the stack of paper. It would either rekindle the brightest flame Chloe had in her life, or it would smother it entirely. The latter made her sick to consider. But better that than waiting forever for nothing. At least in that case… she might be able to move on. Maybe.

Besides, a hipster like Max might appreciate the novelty of it.

“Actually,” Chloe started, swallowing past the lump in her throat. “I need an envelope. And a stamp.”

* * *

Max had barely made it through the front door when her mother wrapped her in a tight hug.

“Welcome home,” she said with a squeeze, her voice just a bit too chipper for Monday evening. “How was school?”

“Uh,” Max managed as she struggled to breathe in her mother’s grip. “Fine? Nothing special really.”

_ Nothing special _was a lie, of sorts. It didn’t even begin to cover how bland and lifeless her school life was these days. Day in and day out, it was always the same. The same nameless faces, the same dull assignments and classes, the same tasteless cafeteria food. She still had no real friends in Seattle. No one took notice of her, and so she passed between them like a ghost that came and went with the sun’s light. 

And truth be told, she wasn’t sure she wanted new friends, no matter how her parents insisted. No one could ever replace Chloe.

_ And yet you still can’t work up the willpower to call her. Some friend you are. _

She’d tried. So many times she’d tried. She’d stand there with the phone in her hand for several minutes until her anxiety forced her to set it down. Making the call meant having to face Chloe’s grief as well as her own. It would mean facing Chloe’s anger for six months of no contact, and each passing day only made that fear worse. It meant forcing herself back into Chloe’s life, when maybe all Chloe really wanted right now was for Max to stay gone.

Stupid, yes, but the anxious brain wasn’t beholden to logic.

Normally Mom would’ve grilled her for _ something _interesting about the school day, but today she mercifully had something else on her mind. “I have something for you, Max.”

“Hmm?” 

“You’ve got some mail.”

“Mail?” She cocked an eyebrow. What on earth could she possibly have for mail? Somehow she doubted it was an early invitation to a prodigious photography school.

With no further explanation, she handed Max a thick white envelope. Sure enough, it was addressed to Max Caulfield. Who would—

Her heart jumped into her throat.

_ This… This handwriting is… _

The return address in the corner confirmed it.

Max bolted past her incredulous mother for the stairs. She was in the process of tearing the envelope open when she made it to her room, slamming the door shut behind her and locking it. She flicked the light on and jumped onto her bed, tossing aside the tattered remains of the envelope. 

It had contained sheets of notebook paper, covered from front to back in black ink. The handwriting was agitated and smudged in places, but there was absolutely no mistaking who had written it. Max swallowed hard, clutching the paper with trembling hands as she started to read.

> Dear Max,
> 
> Listen up, Caulfield. I’m sitting at my desk writing out a letter by hand like some kind of barbarian purely for the sake of talking to you for once, so you’d better actually read every word of this.
> 
> Let’s get this out of the way first. I’m fucking pissed at you.
> 
> It’s been six goddamn months since you left and I haven’t heard a single goddamn word. You know who really needs your words right now? You know who could use a little support from their so called “best friend” right after their fucking dad died? I’ll give you one guess.
> 
> I mean, for fuck’s sake Max! You know that if it had been me moving away after your dad died, I would’ve called you every day of the fucking week? What exactly did you think “forever” meant? Until you left town? Was it always just a fair weather word to you? 
> 
> Jesus, okay, slow down Chloe. That was harsh. I’m sorry. I’d change it, but like the genius I am, I decided to start this in pen. Too late now. You’re getting the unabridged, unfiltered train of my thoughts. No matter how pissed at you I am, you are the only person I trust with everything I’m thinking.
> 
> But even if I admit that was harsh, I really AM pissed at you. And pissed at myself. And pissed at a fucking lot of things really. God damn I’m just so pissed off all the time now. I don’t remember where I thought I was going with this. Let me try to sort this out.
> 
> May as well start at the beginning. The day that you left was the single worst day of my life. Yes, even worse than the day my dad died. Awful as that was, at least I had you there with me. But then, you left when that wound hadn’t even begun to heal. It literally felt like having a part of myself ripped away. It was like losing him all over again, only this time with no one to turn to. Mom does what she can, but… fuck man, I don’t know. She doesn’t understand me or whatever cliche bullshit teenagers say. Only you ever really did.
> 
> My only comfort was the thought that we could still talk. I waited by the phone for hours almost every night hoping you would call. I really wanted, really NEEDED to hear your voice, to hear something that wasn’t my mom’s nagging or my own crying. Instead I got six months of listening to the voice in the back of my head talking all about how you’d finally taken this opportunity to get away from me, that maybe you’d always wanted to. I never did deserve a friend like you, so that made perfect sense. Still does, even now.
> 
> I’ve been missing a lot of classes. My grades are slipping. I spend all my time out of school either locked in my room or standing by the phone trying to work up the courage to call you. I cry myself to sleep every night. I’m not living anymore, Max, not really. I’m just kind of… waiting. You remember that old Spongebob line we always used to quote? “What do you normally do when I’m gone?” “Wait for you to get back.”
> 
> This is going to sound sappy as fuck, but I don’t know how to live without you yet, Max. What am I supposed to do, have pirate adventures on my own? Find some other cute hipster to tease? Get someone else who knows me so well I feel like I can tell them anything? No. I can’t replace you. Even if I could, I wouldn’t. 
> 
> But the hole you left behind, the hole my dad left, I don’t know how to fill it with anything other than sobbing or anger. I’ve always been the braver of us (you little chickenshit) but now I’m getting like, serious urges. Self destructive ones. The logical part of me (that’s only still alive because of you) knows how stupid it all is, but why the fuck should I care? What does it matter? My dad is dead, my best friend is gone, nothing fucking matters anymore. Mom puts on a big show of worry, but honestly? It scared me too, Max. It really fucking did. But I don’t know if I can care enough to be scared anymore.
> 
> Let me be perfectly clear, I’m not trying to guilt trip you into staying friends with me. Well, okay, I kind of am, but fuck Max. We promised forever! If this all sounds clingy as hell, it’s because it is definitely clingy as hell. And how can I not be after all we’ve been through together? We’re Max and Chloe! The Arcadia Bay pirates! We were gonna rule the world together! Even when you left I still believed that! And I STILL want to believe that!
> 
> I really don’t need to say this, but. You’re my best friend Max. No matter how harsh I’ve been so far, no matter how pissed off at you I am, that’s still true. It will ALWAYS be true. And it might make me a total pushover, but I am completely ready and willing to forgive you for everything. Assuming that you’ll forgive me too.
> 
> I’ve been a dick so far. You’re not entirely to blame. Some of it is on me. I could have been the one to call. I tried, so many times, but I always siked myself out of it. And maybe you tried a lot too, and weren’t able to for all the same reasons. You loved William too. You have your own grief to process. And maybe you miss me as much as I miss you. 
> 
> Or maybe my brain weasels were right and you just don’t want to deal with me. Maybe you were still on the fence before my dickishness in this letter convinced you otherwise. And you know what? I think I could find a way to live with that, somehow in the very distant future, if I knew for sure that’s what you wanted. But I need to KNOW first.
> 
> So, the whole point of this is to ask you for some kind of sign, one way or the other. I don’t care what it is. If you really wanted you could have your mom leave a message on our answering machine that says “Fuck off and die Chloe,” and that would be better than nothing. 
> 
> But I hope that it won’t turn out that way. I know things can never go back to how they were. Maybe the Arcadia Bay pirates will never sail together again. But I still want you in my life in some form or other. I want my best friend back.
> 
> Damn it. Only you could get this kind of sappy crap out of me. Burn this after you read it. I have a reputation to uphold.
> 
> I’m running out of ways to phrase all this. I never was as good at words as you. The message here isn’t “I’m pissed, never speak to me again.” The message is “I couldn’t be this pissed at you if I didn’t really fucking care about you and miss you more than I can express so please please please give me something, anything.”
> 
> This doesn’t even convey half of what I want it to, but my hand is cramping and there’s some things that words can’t do justice. You know me well enough to fill in the blanks. I hope you appreciate the effort at least. I think I wrote more here than in all of this school year combined.
> 
> So I guess my rant is over now. I really hope to hear from you soon, for better or worse.
> 
> Your (hopefully still) best friend,
> 
> Chloe

The pages fluttered out of Max’s shaking hands and landed on the bed, several more of the words smudged by fresh teardrops. For a long several minutes she couldn’t do anything but bury her face in her hands and sob. At some point there was a knock on her door, but she yelled for them to go away. 

_ Jesus, Chloe… I’m so sorry… _

Max was, without a doubt, the shittiest best friend in the history of all best friends. She’d known Chloe had to be struggling just as much or more than she was, but for her to start _ doubting _that Max wanted to be friends anymore? That got to her way more than any of the rest of it did. She could take Chloe’s harshest anger because she deserved it. But when her definition of forever was called into question, that’s how she knew how badly she’d fucked up. She’d almost be tempted to believe Chloe would be better off without someone like her as a friend, were her letter not so clearly stating the opposite.

When Max’s tears subsided enough, she picked up the pages and reread them. Then she read them again, and then again. She could tell exactly how Chloe had been feeling at each point of writing this letter by how her handwriting style changed. Tight, sharp angles in the beginning for anger. Squiggly and blotchy curves in the middle where her tears had fallen. Lighter ink in the last few sections, the pen not pressed quite so hard against the paper as she made her last pleas.

Despite the depressing content, Max can’t help but give the pages a tearful smile. Chloe’s hand had written these words. Her passion was practically oozing from them. She’d bared herself open to Max again, just like they used to do in their late night talks at their sleepovers. In a way… it was like Chloe had sent a piece of herself to Max. An angry and sad and afraid piece of herself, but a piece of herself nonetheless.

Max placed it against her chest, crying softly now. She knew exactly how Chloe felt. She’d been pissed at herself for not having the guts to just make the call. She’d been torn apart by William’s death and being forced to move away. She had no clue how to live in this big and scary town without her partner in crime. She hadn’t been living, she’d been waiting, like Chloe said. And more than anything, she desperately wanted her friend back. 

_ I’m so, so sorry, Chloe… This ends now. I’m going to make it up to you. I don’t know how, or if I ever can, but I’m going to fucking try. We said forever, and I meant it. I won’t ever give you cause to doubt me again. _

She stood, intending to march downstairs, go to the phone and call Chloe this instant. But then, as she glanced one more at Chloe’s passionate letter, another idea came to mind. She was immediately enamored with it. It’d be slow — Chloe would live another few days thinking Max hated her — but after the effort Chloe had put into this, she had to return the favor, to show Chloe just as much passion as Chloe had shown her. 

Besides, there was just something special about written words. A certain… romance, almost.

Chloe’s letter still in hand, Max went to her desk and started looking for notebook paper.


	2. Never Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter beta read by the wonderful [Platon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Platon/pseuds/Platon)

Chloe was lying alone in her room crying softly — what the hell else was new — when she heard a soft knocking at her door.

“Chloe? I have something for you,” Joyce said, sounding… perky. Happy, almost.

“I don’t care,” Chloe called, stifling another sob. She actually felt _ irritated _at her mother’s chipper tone. What the hell was there to be cheerful about? Dad was still dead. Max was still gone. And after two more weeks with no contact despite the plea in her letter, it was looking more and more likely that Max really did want nothing to do with her after all.

_ Stupid, _ she chastised herself for the millionth time. _ She probably didn’t even open it. _

“Oh, I think you’ll care quite a lot about this,” Joyce said, her tone not even slightly dampened by Chloe’s attitude.”You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”

_ Waiting for… does… does she mean… _

The knob shook as Joyce tried to open the locked door. Instead of demanding that Chloe unlock it like she might have normally done, there was the soft scratch of something sliding across the floor. “I did tell you not to assume the worst, didn’t I?”

Chloe managed to lift her head as her mother’s footsteps echoed down the stairs. Something had slid under her door. A thick white envelope, with faint writing in black ink.

Her heart missed a beat.

She leapt out of bed so fast her legs got caught up in her blankets and brought her slamming to the floor. She shook off the pain and crawled the rest of the way to the envelope. She snatched it off the floor and held it in shaking hands, her eyes getting teary again as she read the familiar handwriting, from a return address in Seattle.

_ She actually made me wait for snail mail for her reply… Asshole, _Chloe thought with a broad smile.

She didn’t even bother going back to her bed to tear the envelope open. Several sheets of notebook paper fell out, along with a thick rectangle that Chloe instantly recognized as a Polaroid. She took that first and spun it around.

_ Max. _There she was. 

It was a selfie, of all things; she’d never wanted to take pictures of herself without Chloe in them before. She still looked basically the same as the last time Chloe had seen her, with her brown hair in a ponytail, her face full of freckles, and her sense of fashion wildly in need of outside care. However, there were dark circles under her bloodshot eyes — she’d obviously been sleeping poorly, and crying somewhat recently. The small smile on her face didn’t reach her eyes, which were almost _ pleading. _ In her free hand, she held up a small note card with a simple message scrawled in black marker: _ I’M SORRY. _

Chloe’s mind immediately went into overthinking mode. Sorry? Sorry about what? Could it mean “Sorry that this is the last time you’ll ever hear from me because this letter is actually telling you to fuck off?” 

She had an easy way to find out. Still sprawled out on the floor, she took the pages of Max’s letter and held them above her head, slowly reading through every single word of her best friend’s writing.

> Dear Chloe,
> 
> I am so, so, SO fucking sorry. Get used to reading that, I’m going to be saying that a lot. No amount of saying it can ever express how sorry I am. And it won’t fix things between us. But it’s a good place to start.
> 
> Before I say anything else, I need to state the explicit intent of this letter, because if I know you as well as I think do, your mind is definitely going into overthink mode right about now. You’re probably thinking I’m saying sorry because this is like my breakup letter to you, right? Give me an “Aye aye, Captain,” if I’m right.

Chloe gave a shallow chuckle and a mumbled “Aye aye, Captain.” Damn it, Max did know her too well.

> Wow, I could hear that from Seattle.
> 
> Well, your Captain orders you to stop overthinking. This isn’t like a breakup letter. I am, in no uncertain terms, still your best friend, and I always will be. Forever DOES mean forever, even if I haven’t been the best at showing that recently.
> 
> I say again in case you skipped the last paragraph: I STILL VERY MUCH WANT TO BE YOUR BEST FRIEND, THIS IS NOT ME TELLING YOU GOODBYE. GOT IT?
> 
> Okay. Now. Anyway. On to addressing the elephant in the massive pile of elephants that might once have been a room.
> 
> I’m so so so sorry for being the shittiest excuse for a best friend on the face of the Earth. You’ve needed me and I haven’t been there for you when I should have been. I just left you high and dry for six months without even so much as a call. You have every right to be pissed at me. I know you thought parts of your letter were harsh, but I’d argue it wasn’t harsh enough. It shouldn’t have been on you to get in touch, with everything you’re going through right now. That’s all on me. I regret every single day of those months more than anything else in my life. Even more than asking out that cute boy in science class.

Chloe managed a full laugh this time. She’d never let Max live down how flustered she’d gotten when that happened, back in third grade. The happy memory was exactly what she needed in the midst of the heavier shit.

> Let me preface this next part by saying that there is NO EXCUSE for me neglecting you like that. I’m going to try to explain what shitty brainflows of mine led to that, even though it’s NO EXCUSE. Full responsibility is still on me, I have NO EXCUSE.
> 
> Losing William… it was hard on me too. It still is now. With how much time we spent at your house instead of mine, how amazing he always was at encouraging us and keeping us in line while still allowing us our freedom to explore and be ourselves… He was like a second father to me, Chloe. I still have no idea how to process that. I still cry myself to sleep thinking about him. And if it’s like that for me, it must be ten times worse for you. You needed me through this now more than ever, and I failed you.
> 
> I guess… Subconsciously, I was still trying to deny that it happened. That back in Arcadia Bay, very far away from me, he was still alive and well. If I had to face your grief as well as mine, I wouldn’t be able to keep thinking that. It would become real. No more pretending.
> 
> Yes, that’s right. I didn’t call you doing your darkest hour of need because I wanted to play pretend. I’m the shittiest best friend ever, maybe the shittiest person ever. 
> 
> I think I stopped pretending a while ago, but by then we hadn’t talked in months, and at that point it was anxiety at getting in contact after so long. What could I say to you to make up for that? Would you even want to hear it? Did you hate me? All those thoughts and so many more kept me from getting up the strength to make the call like I should have. 
> 
> And now that I’m done explaining my shitty brain’s shitty reasoning, I again say that it’s all NO EXCUSE. What I did hurt you, and that’s unforgivable. It hurt me a lot too. It’s like you said, I’ve just been waiting. I don’t have any friends here in Seattle. You know me, always the introvert. I just go to school, do my homework, come home and lie down and cry. I barely even do photography these days. The selfie with this letter is the first picture I’ve taken in weeks.
> 
> I can’t express how happy I was when your letter came. I laughed and smiled for the first time in a long time. Even your harshest words were precious to me. Chloe Price, going to the trouble of handwriting a letter for me? All that passion in all your words. I could just feel how much you cared in every single line on those pages. I may have gotten a few more tear stains on it. Regretful tears mostly, but happy ones too.
> 
> You shouldn’t have had to do it, but thank you so much for sending that letter, Chloe. It gave me a much needed wake up call. This bullshit ends now. We’re Max and Chloe, and I’m going to start acting like it again.
> 
> I suppose I should apologize for the extra time you had to spend thinking I hated you while you waited for this letter to arrive, but after seeing all the effort and passion you put into yours, I just had to return the favor. It may be sentimental hipster bullshit, but I do believe there’s something special in words written by someone’s hand. They say so much more than spoken words can ever hope to. 
> 
> So let me make the most of it by saying what I would be too chickenshit to say out loud. Chloe, you’re a light in my life that I don’t know how to see without. I’ve missed you every single hour since I had to move away. You’re my best friend, my partner in crime, and I would do anything for you. I swear to you now, I’ll never let you down like that again. The Arcadia Bay pirates WILL sail together again, someday. Until then, we’re going to keep in touch in every way that we can. 
> 
> As soon as you’re done reading this letter, I want you to call me. Or, whenever you’re ready to, I suppose. Maybe you’re still a bit too pissed at how long I made you wait for a reply. If you are, please, call me and yell at me for it. I can take it, I deserve it. Or wait until I’ve had to wait just as long as you did, if it’ll make us even. I know I know, asking you to be the one to call is a real dick move after you sent the first letter, but it’s the only way I can be sure you’ve gotten this. If you haven’t called by the end of the month, I’m calling you. I NEED to hear your voice again. 
> 
> Once that first call is made, there’s nothing stopping us. We can talk each others’ ears off until our mothers get sick of listening to it. But… this is presumptuous as hell of me after the bullshit I’ve pulled and what you’re going through right now… Can you still write a reply to this letter and send it to me? Like I said, there’s something special about having your written words in my hand. I hope you get what I mean. I’ll send a reply back, with more pictures if you want them! Hopefully some happier looking ones.
> 
> And now this has turned into a full novella, and I see what you mean about the hand cramps. I have so much more I’d like to say, but there’s not enough paper in the world. The rest will just have to wait for our phone call. I’m literally counting down the minutes until I can talk to you again. I really hope that’s soon. Nothing would make me happier.
> 
> Once more, for the people in the back: I’m so fucking sorry. Never again, I promise. We’re Max and Chloe forever. Can’t wait to hear from you.
> 
> Your (definitely still) best friend,
> 
> Max

Chloe was sobbing again. This time, they were happy tears.

She wasn’t religious, but _ thank god. _ Max _ didn’t _ hate her. Max wanted her back. The only thing keeping them apart those months had been a mixture of grief, anxiety, and stupidity. Not anymore. _ Max wanted her back. _She hugged Max’s letter to her chest and cried on her bedroom floor, overcome with such overwhelming relief that she had no other way to express it. 

_ There’s a much better way to express it: to HER you dumbass! _

She scrambled to her feet, pausing only to carefully lay the pages and the photo on her desk, then bolted for the door. She took the stairs down three at a time, nearly crashing into the wall next to the front door. Joyce said something from the kitchen that Chloe ignored as she dashed to the phone. She swore as she dialed the number incorrectly and had to start again. When she finally hit dial and put the phone to her ear, it was shaking against her head.

The seconds of ringing were agonizing. When they finally ended and a voice greeted her that wasn’t Max’s, she nearly swore again. 

“Caulfield residence,” a man’s voice said.

“Hey, Ryan,” Chloe said softly, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible. “It’s Chloe. Is Max around?”

“Good to hear from you, Chloe,” Ryan said, sounding much more upbeat. “She’s been waiting. Hold on.”

She could hear his voice faintly yelling for Max. Barely a few seconds later, there was a commotion on the other end of the line, followed by distinct heavy breathing.

“Chloe?”

She closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. “Max…”

“You called,” Max said as if she didn’t believe it.

“Of course I did, you idiot,” Chloe chuckled. “You told me to.”

“Chloe, I’m so, _ so _sorry, I was an idiot, and a terrible friend, I swear I’m never going to—”

“Shut up, just shut up,” Chloe snapped, to which Max obeyed. “You already said all that in your letter, okay? You don’t need to say it anymore. I forgive you. Completely.”

“O-Okay… It’s… really good to hear your voice again, Chloe.”

“Yeah, yours too,” Chloe said, trying not to make her next round of tears audible. _ You have no idea how good it is to hear your voice again. Not even written words could express that. _

Joyce peaked out from around the corner. She had a knowing smile on her face as she gave Chloe a thumbs up. Chloe gave a shaky one back. Chloe had her ray of light back again. Perhaps with that, she could be a ray of light for Joyce. Perhaps they could start to heal.

“Well, don’t just breath at me all night,” Chloe said in the characteristic snark she reserved for Max. “You already know what Arcadia Bay is like, but you’ve got six months worth of the Seattle experience to catch me up on! Start talking, Caulfield!”

“O-Of course!” Max said, a bit startled, but all too happy to start talking again. “Well, it’s probably not the experience you would have, introvert that I am, but there are _ some _cool things…”

They talked like that for literal hours. Chloe didn’t bother keeping track of time. The smile never left her face as she listened to the tones of her best friend’s voice. She’d never take that sound for granted again. Max traded stories about Seattle, and Chloe in turn talked about the local drama Max had missed out on. They didn’t talk about anything heavy like Chloe’s dad yet. That could wait for another time, another call. Right now they were just happy to be together again, if only in an incomplete way.

They only stopped when Max’s parents forced her to hang up and go to bed. Their goodbye was prolonged, with many promises for another call the next day. When Chloe finally set down the handset, she was tired, but still beaming broadly. The void of the last six months didn’t seem quite so big anymore.

Tired as she was when she got back to her room, the first thing she did was start looking for more notebook paper… and some colored pencils.


	3. Seal of Approval

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter beta read by the wonderful [Platon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Platon/pseuds/Platon)

Dear Maximus,

You asked for it. Here it is. Another handwritten letter fresh off the desk of the illustrious Captain Price. Feel honoured by this missive, for I, the terror known across the Seven Seas, would only bring myself down to this archaic form of communication for your sake. I expect my due compensation, or I’ll be coming for your booty!

Haha I kid I kid. Except for the part about your booty, I’m still coming for that.

But yes, letters. I suppose this makes us pen pals as well as bestest friends now. What exactly does one write to their pen pal when they also talk on the phone a lot? Probably all the stuff we can’t talk about over the phone (Read: all the stuff we don’t want our parents to hear). You know what that means, hehehehe…

[A large, crude doodle of a penis follows.]

Oh yeah, by the way, don’t open these in front of your parents. Or leave them laying around for your parents to find. If you already did that, then — shit. Uh, hi Ryan, hi Vanessa! I’m totally not corrupting your daughter through the mail, I promise. Nothing but G-Rated convos to be found here. Please disregard the above coffee stain suspiciously shaped like an inappropriate body part.

Anyway, Max, if you’re still reading this and haven’t been banned from ever speaking to me again, there is other stuff I wanted to say that I probably won’t during however long it takes for this to get to you. I suppose that’s another advantage of letters over the phone. There’s some things that are… really hard to say out loud. Partly because I don’t wanna get sappy in front of Joyce, but also just cause like… I don’t know emotions are hard and shit. You get what I mean.

That call with you today (As in, the first call, which was today at time of writing) was probably the best thing that’s happened to me in months. Hearing your voice again was hella awesome. I think I nearly started crying. I know we talked for hours but it seriously didn’t feel like anywhere near long enough. Already I’m looking forward to tomorrow, because I know I’ll get to talk to you again. 

I know you’re beating yourself up about those six months again, and I’ll tell you again that I forgive you. Seriously. I’m just happy to have you back again. I do really wish you could be here, but this will have to do until we can see each other again. It’s already so much better than nothing. 

And in a weird way, those six months really drove home just how important you are to me, you know? It’s like, human nature I guess, to not really appreciate what you have until you lose it. I took all our adventures for granted because I thought they’d never end. Not going to be doing that anymore for sure. Going to cherish every bit of contact we have until we can get together again. 

Then we’ll go out and make new adventures! Maybe by then we’ll have cars, and we can drive somewhere away from Arcadia Bay or Seattle. We could go on a cross country road trip! There’d be so much interesting stuff we could go see for you to photograph. Maybe we can even pick up a cute hipster boy for you or something, haha.

Speaking of, I didn’t want to ask this over the phone in case your parents were listening (you’d be too chickenshit to say anything in front of them) but I want the scoop on your prospects in Seattle! Any cuties you’ve got your eye on? Tell me all about them. Well, okay, maybe not ALL about them. If you start gushing too much I might get jealous. I still reserve first dibs on that booty!

Anyway, I know this is shorter than my first epic rant but I think I need to call it a night. Joyce will probably kill me if she catches me still up. Besides, I need the sleep for class tomorrow… Yeah, I’m actually going to be on time for once. Damn you Caulfield. Already you’re being a positive influence on me again. Why can’t you just let me ruin my life in peace?

Good night Maximillian. Looking forward to your call tomorrow, and to your reply to this!

Your swashbuckling superior,

Captain Chloe Price

P.S. Send more selfies I miss your dorky face

P.P.S. I drew you my dick answer me

* * *

Dear Captain Chloe,

It is indeed my highest honor to receive a missive penned by the hand of one as illustrious as yourself. Your name has long struck fear in the hearts of even the most hardened sailors on the high seas. As compensation for your generosity, I hope that you’ll permit me to rejoin your crew as your most trustworthy First Mate. 

Though, I regret to inform you that even after seven months, I still possess no booty to speak of. Check back in a few more years.

Also: yes, we are officially pen pals now. And while yes, that does mean we get to talk about all the stuff we don’t want our parents to hear, god damn it Chloe I DID open that while my parents were in the room! They didn’t see your attempt at art, but if they had they might actually start confiscating your letters. I’d ask you to not, but I already know how that would go. Maybe just, make it a bit smaller next time? It’d be nice if I could actually read your letters wherever I want and not just in the safety of my room.

Alright fine, it did make me laugh. And blush a lot. But still.

Anyway, I know we’ve talked a bunch since you wrote the letter I’m replying to (huzzah for snail mail) but I also wanted to express how much that first call meant to me. Talking to you every day has been such a blessing. I completely get what you mean about taking the old times for granted. This isn’t the same as that — I’d still much rather be there with you — but this is so much better than not having each other at all.

And as people like to say, distance makes the heart grow fonder. When I actually do get to see you in person again, you are getting the biggest hug ever. Joyce will need a crowbar to pry us apart.

I know we talked about it some on the phone already since you first wrote it, but since this is a direct reply to that I feel compelled to bring it up again: I am all aboard on the idea of a cross country road trip with you! There are so many amazing places we could go, and you’re damn right I’d love to photograph all of it. I could do that myself, but it wouldn’t be nearly as fun without my captain. A lot of monuments and natural wonders would be improved by having you in the frame with them. Gonna have to give a hard veto to the boy idea though.

I’m astounded you even have to ask about boys. You know me, do I seem like the type that can go out and get a boyfriend? I can barely even make regular friends. There’s a couple people in my class that are nice enough to me - Kristen and Fernando are their names - but the dating front is still completely barren. Believe me, if anything changes (it won’t) you’ll be the first (and probably only) to know.

Also, I really don’t expect every letter to be as long as the first epic rants were. Some weeks we might just not have anything interesting to talk about that we can’t talk about on the phone. Sometimes we’re strapped for time or mental energy. I’m happy with literally anything I get from you. If you really want we could just swap postcards for a few weeks, just as long as we get to exchange actual letters again at some point.

On that note: thank you for agreeing to keep this up. I know I know, writing by hand is so old fashioned and barbaric and only a complete hipster like me would ever ask such a thing, but I truly do appreciate it. Every single way I get to talk to you is precious to me. I really like having your handwriting with me, being able to reread it as often as I want, especially when we can’t call for whatever reason. It’s like being sent small pieces of you in the mail.

That… sounded a lot less serial-killery in my head. Please don’t send actual pieces of yourself. I have no idea how I’d explain that to the police.

Oh! By the way, you’ll never guess what I found in one of my moving boxes! (Yes, I’m still unpacking seven months later, it was a hard time, bite me). My old eye patch and hat that we made, along with a bunch of our other stuff! I think I avoided unpacking that stuff on purpose, while I was still trying to avoid things like a jackass (I know I know, you forgave me, but I still feel guilty.) Now I’m going to make sure it’s all well taken care of. 

Anyway, I included a selfie with some of the stuff, as requested! I know you’re not one for photos, but you ought to send me something in return for it… Like, perhaps, one of your drawings that isn’t phallic? I really wish I had your talent for drawing, and I’d love some of your work to hang in my room! At least, some of your SFW work.

I suppose I’d better get to my homework now. Trigonometry, yay… Hope that whatever you’re currently doing is more fun than this! Counting down the minutes until I hear from you again.

Your loyal First Mate,

Max

P.S. Unsolicited dick pics aren’t the way to a woman’s heart

* * *

Dear First Mate Max,

I be glad to have ye aboard once again ye scurvy dog! The pirates of Arrrrrrcadia sail once more! Together we shall ravage these seas as no duo ever has before! But first, ye must tend to yer captain’s ship! Swab the poop deck!

And fear not your lack of booty, for it is the woman who makes the booty, and not the other way ‘round. Therefore, yours is still on my “To Plunder” checklist, just ahead of Joyce’s bacon.

I’m disappointed to hear that you don’t appreciate my talent for biology. Really, aren’t best friends supposed to encourage each other? But then again, when I think back on it, that sketch was rather crude wasn’t it? How silly of me. Of course your delicate sensibilities would be offended by such a thing. Here, let me make it right…

[A small but very detailed sketch of a penis is drawn in the right margin.]

Much better. I even made it smaller, since you apparently can’t handle them big. Don’t worry, no judgement. Your secrets are safe with me sista.

On a more serious note (not that the above isn’t very serious), holy shit that selfie! I’d forgotten how adorkable you look in those pirate getups. Long Max Silver walks a very delicate line between cute and badass. That photo is going up on the nightstand next to my bed, FYI. I think I’ll sleep much better with that fierce cutie watching over me.

Don’t even get me started on the rest of the stuff! Did you really keep _ all _of those old comic books we made? I mean, I still have all of mine, but I’d always figured I was the weird one for hanging onto them. I keep expecting Joyce to do a spring cleaning of my shit and throw them all out. Don’t worry, I won’t let that happen. They’ll be worth some serious cash once you become a world famous photographer!

As for your payment request for selfies… Harumph. Fiiiiiiiine. I guess I can draw you something that’s not phallic… But if I do I demand photo proof that you hung it up somewhere! My art deserves to be prominently on display where the whole world can see it. Including the phalluses, but baby steps. We’ll get you warmed up to them eventually. 

Speaking of phalluses: god damn it don’t you dare try to tell me that Max Caulfield couldn’t land herself a fine boyfriend without even trying. If you came out from behind your camera every once in a while, you might see them all scrambling over each other for your attention. No one can resist hipster freckles. Not that any of them are good enough for you, but you may as well weigh your options. 

Tell me more about this Fernando guy. Is he cute? Probably not as cute as me. How’s his taste in music? Probably shittier than mine. Then again, everyone’s is. Except yours. Yours has its own unique, dorky charm.

On second thought, maybe don’t tell me about him. I get protective. No, wait, yes, do tell me. Anyone dating you has to get the Chloe Price seal of approval. Currently only one person has it (hint: it’s me) and it’s a harsh process. Only the best for my Maxipad!

And on the subject of guys: ugh, I have to rant about this for a minute. Mom’s been awfully chatty lately with this random dude she met one day at the diner. I didn’t bother to learn his name but dear lord he just seems like such a tool. He’s got this big derpy mustache and a fucking brush cut. I talked to him once and I already don’t like him. He tried to ORDER me to grab him his coffee from mom! Who the fuck does that? Pretty sure he’s ex-military or something, only they walk like they have a stick THAT big up their ass. 

I’m pretty sure it hasn’t turned into anything yet (at least I fucking hope not) but it still really pisses me off. I mean, dad practically JUST fucking died, it hasn’t even been a year, and already she’s grabbing for any old tool that sweet talks her at the diner? I get that she’s having a really hard time, but come the fuck on! There’s better ways to cope.

Granted, I guess I don’t really make it easy for her. I’ve been better about going to class since we started talking again, but my grades are still slipping and I haven’t exactly been very patient with her at home. I snap at her a lot, I complain when she asks me to do something. Even bought a bit of weed just to spite her. This guy Justin got me a hookup. It actually does help calm me down a bit. It’s really nice to just kinda… let everything drift away for a little while.

I can already hear your scolding about gateway drugs and whatnot. You always did hold me back from the stupidest of my ideas. As much as talking to you again is helping, school still sucks and I still spend a lot of time thinking about dad. Sadly I can’t talk to you all the time (you’d probably get sick of me anyway) and I need something to take the edge off. But please don’t worry too much okay? It’s just a bit of weed, and I, Chloe Elizabeth Price, solemnly swear to you that I’ll never try anything harder than that. I swear it on me peg leg and captain’s hat.

Welp, that’s enough heavy shit for one letter. I should really get to work on that drawing for you. I’m sure you’ll love it! Can’t wait to talk to you later.

Your nautical navigator,

Captain Chloe Elizabeth Price II

P.S. What about unsolicited boob pics instead

* * *

Dear Chloe,

How did I know there would be another drawing like that? How on earth could I have guessed? It’s a mystery to everyone. Very mysterious. Perhaps I can tell the future. Here, let me try now: I predict that the next time I see you, I’m going to smack you. Only time may tell if this prophecy comes to pass, but I have a very good feeling about it.

What I have a much worse feeling about is literally ANYTHING to do with boys. You should know this even better than I do, you saw what happened in third grade. And damn it, Fernando is just a FRIEND. I mean, I guess he’s a little cute, but there’s zero chemistry there, I promise. I’d have an easier time dating Kristen than him. 

In actually realistic news on that front: I guess Kristen and Fernando and I are friends now? They sat with me at lunch the other day. They asked about my hometown, and I honestly thought I’d scare them off with how much I talked about you, but somehow I didn’t. We’re all going to a pizza place after school tomorrow. 

I’d tell you all about them, but I still know so little about them. I’ve been a bit more outgoing since we started talking again, but I still find it hard to ask people personal questions. Baby steps, I suppose. How long did it take for you and I to really connect with each other when we met?

Oh, right. Like a single afternoon. Nothing like that up here, so absolutely no reason to get jealous or think I’m gonna replace you. Yes, I know that’s where your mind was going. Let me assure you, Chloe Price, you are quite irreplaceable.

Which is why even though you practically baited me into nagging you, I’m still going to do it anyway. I really don’t mind weed (Fernando does it, it seems fine if you keep it reasonable) but please please PLEASE be careful with it. Especially with getting it, I know dealers can be super sketchy. And even more especially with getting caught. I don’t want to address these letters to a prison or something. I can’t and won’t try to dictate how you live, but I do very much prefer that you continue living, so I’ll hold you to your promise of no harder drugs.

As far as the Joyce-guy thing goes… I’m not really sure what to say. That really does suck. William was amazing, and practically anyone else is gonna be a downgrade. It does seem really soon to me too, but… Maybe this is what she needs to move on? You know, with an actually decent guy at least. Is there a chance your first impression of him could’ve been bad? The whole ORDER thing is super sketch, but maybe he just came back from deployment and is still getting adjusted or something?

Sorry, I don’t mean to downplay how shitty this is for you. Your feelings about it are completely valid, and I hear you. I’m just trying to play the optimist here, for better or worse. Maybe you’re completely right and the dude is a raging asshole. You might know for sure as I write this, or by the time it gets to you (super speedy snail mail). If that does turn out to be the case, I retract all my previous statements. If it does seem like it will become a problem, maybe you could try talking to Joyce about it? I know that wouldn’t be fun, but any relationship of hers will involve you, so you need to speak your mind.

Oh, look at me, telling Chloe Price to speak her mind. May as well tell the sun to keep shining. What do you even need me for?

On a happier note: HOLY SHIT CHLOE! This sketch is amazeballs! Like… wowsers! I love all the detailing in the wings and the body, and the shading is so vibrant. Seriously, this has to be the best butterfly drawing I’ve ever seen. At first glance it looks like it could be a photograph. This is hanging right above my desk, so it can inspire me while I work.

Seriously Chloe, you have crazy talent. I know things have been really shitty for you lately, and I completely get your grades slipping. That’s okay. You’re healing. It might take a long while, but you’ll be okay again, and when you are, you’ll do amazing things. People tend to have talent for either the arts or the sciences, but rarely do they have both! You can go anywhere you want to go. 

And I’m really excited to come along for the ride. I’ll love being the one to take your photo for the cover of some science or art magazine. Or maybe both, if you’re feeling ambitious!

In a way though, this drawing does make me a little sad. It reminds me of the days we spent drawing all those comic books together (Of course I kept all of them!). If you flip back through them you can really tell which parts I drew by how much crappier they are. But then again, I suppose that’s part of the charm, the two of us working together to make something! I’ll be sure to work on my drawing though, so that next time we see each other we can make a new comic without such an obvious gap in quality.

And speaking of that, we should really see if we can find a time soon for one of us to visit the other! I know you’d like to get out of Arcadia for a while, but I’d also love to see it again. I didn’t realize how much I’d miss the small town charm until I lived in a big city. So, whichever way we go, it’ll be fun! I’m going to try talking to my parents about it tomorrow (They’re asleep right now, I’m staying up past curfew to write you, what the hell are you doing to me). You should talk to Joyce and see what she says!

Hmm. Why I am writing to you about this? We can talk about this on the phone. I’m not willing to wait for snail mail to get a response on being able to see you again. Eh, fuck it. I still write these in pen, so it stays. Guess it becomes part of the official Max and Chloe Chronicles. One day all these letters will be in the books written about us. So, bear that in mind before you draw more penises.

Oh who am I kidding. That’ll just encourage you more.

I should really get to bed now, I have a test tomorrow (Only for you would I stay up late on a test night!) Hope your day tomorrow isn’t quite as shitty.

Your adorkable shipmate,

Max

P.S. No unsolicited any body part dang it

P.P.S. Good to see you earned your own seal of approval, when’s our first date

P.P.P.S. I expect another drawing in return for this selfie

P.P.P.P.S. Okay dang it actually sleeping now

P.P.P.P.P.S. You’re adorkable too and I could never get sick of you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! This chapter was originally going to be two separate chapters, but since the letters are all in sequence, it just made sense to put them all together. You get an extra long chapter this week!
> 
> Future chapters will typically only be one letter from each of the gals. The second one in a chapter will always be the direct reply to the first one, but they won't usually be the direct replies to the previous chapter. There's going to be some time jumps between chapters, and some letters that I don't show, simply because they wouldn't have anything new to say. Hope this helps avoid any confusion over letter content they reference that isn't present in this fic! See you all next time!


	4. Badass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter beta read by the wonderful [Platon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Platon/pseuds/Platon)

Dear Mrs. Dr. Professor Price, 

Oh my, I had no idea that Hipster was a contagious condition. Give it to me straight doc, how long do I have? How can we contain it? We have to stop it before-- 

Oh no, it’s too late! You're already listening to my music! Soon you’ll be using polaroids and watching Final Fantasy: Spirits Within! Noooooooooo! 

Seriously, you’re a dork. Listening to Syd Matters won’t kill you. I listen to all of your rock stuff, and I quite like some of it! The playlist may be a tonal disaster, but it’s super great being able to work on something with you again! Well, you know, work on something other than your bizarre fixation with rude sketches. Seriously, is that position even physically possible? 

On second thought, don’t answer that. 

So! I promised you pictures from our trip to the Space Needle, and here they are! I’m quite proud of most of these shots (all the ones without me in them specifically). I managed to get up there during the golden hour, which made me much more excited than I’d care to admit. For a non-photography nerd like yourself, the golden hour is like this time around sunset where everything is bathed in golden hues. With all the contrast against the shadows of the skyline, and reflections on the water in the distance, it really pulls together the compositions of each shot so... 

Okay I can practically feel your eyes glazing over her from here. Basically, it made everything really pretty. I hope I was able to capture some of that. I really wish you’d been here to share it with me instead, but this will have to do. 

Oh, and my parents made me include a picture of them. They say hi! You probably won’t recognize my dad, he started working on this ridiculous lumberjack beard right after we moved. Mom keeps trying to convince him to shave it, but so far he hasn’t budged. It’s actually kind of cute watching them bicker about it and make up right afterwards. I hope when I’m old (sorry mom, sorry dad!) I can have a marriage like that. 

Before you ask AGAIN, no, no prospects for that have popped up. Behold the field in which I grow my romantic life. Look upon it, and see that it is barren. 

And for god’s sake, no, I don’t need an appointment with “The Love Doctor.” Seriously, how many guys have YOU dated? The running score is currently 0-0 by my count. The spectators of this game must be terribly bored. Tell you what, if we’re still scoreless when the clock runs out, let’s just date each other. That way we get SOME points at least! 

I’m sorry you have to put up with David so much. I’d honestly hoped for your sake that wouldn’t become an official thing. It had seemed like long enough since you first wrote about him... But, if he’s as much of a douche as you describe, hopefully it won’t last. Joyce is too smart a woman to settle for a dude like that. 

I know your feelings on that subject are still a bit sore (or a lot), but I can appreciate Joyce trying to move on in whatever way she can, you know? This definitely isn’t the best way, and she’ll realize that at some point, but loss really screws with you. I still haven’t moved on yet either. I know you feel the same. So yeah, David is a royal pain in the ass, but please don’t take it out on Joyce too much, okay? People do the best they can with what they’re given, and Joyce was given more grief than anybody can process. Try to be patient with her, for me? I hate the idea of you two fighting. You both mean a lot to me. 

Anyway, heavy stuff done for one letter. Well, almost. Next part is kinda serious, but in a good way. Now, I really don’t know how to word this so it doesn’t seem super patronizing or condescending in text. I probably can’t, so you’ll have to settle for my pinky promise that I don’t mean to be patronizing. 

I’m really, REALLY proud of you for getting back into a routine of attending class every day. You’ve been dragged through the dirt over the last year, and you’ve been so strong through it all. I know firsthand how hard it can be to make yourself do the little things everyone else takes for granted. You’re a goddamn badass, Chloe Price. And to be honest, it’s really been inspiring to me. If you can push through, I can too.

I’ve let myself peek out of my shell a bit more recently, thanks to you. Kristen and Fernando invited me to this birthday party thing one of their other friends was throwing while their parents were out of town. I didn’t drink any of the stuff there (yeah yeah I know, boring ass Caulfield) but I actually managed to make myself TALK to some people there. A couple of Kristen’s other friends seemed to like me? Imagine that, me with more than three friends!

Every time I talked to someone new, I could picture what you’d say to them, how you’d react to what they said, what you’d say about them after they were gone. The more friends I make here, the more I’m reminded of how much I miss you, how no amount of other friends could hope to replace you. I wish you were here with me. Or that I was in Arcadia Bay with you. Does it make me a bad friend if I’d ditch all my new friends here without a second thought to come back to Arcadia Bay? Probably, but I don’t think I’d feel any guilt about it. Probably shouldn’t mention that to Kristen and Fernando, haha.

Hard to believe it’s been over a year since I last saw you. I hope one of us will get to visit the other soon (my parents are being evasive about it for some reason). Either way, it’s been way too long since I last saw your face.

You always demand selfies from me, so it’s only fair that I can do it too! I demand a selfie of the one, the only, the lovely Chloe Elizabeth Price. WITH HER CLOTHES ON. Damn it, the fact that I feel the need to specify that. 

Actually, I want multiple selfies! I want regular shots of you! And you in our old pirate costumes! And you doing your homework! And you eating breakfast! I want photos of Chloe doing Chloe things! And they all better have flawless shot composition and lighting, or you’ll be getting another four hour photography lesson from Professor Caulfield!

(I’m kidding. I could never do that to you. Unless you want me to. I mean, I’d love to. But only if you asked for it. Sorry. I love photography. In case you didn’t know.)

But yes. Chloe selfies, or no more Max selfies. I swear it on my camera.

Yikes, time for class. Gotta go. Talk to you soon!

Your photogenic phriend,

Max

P.S. Sorry if this one is hard to read, I wrote most of it on the bus this morning

* * *

Dear Maxitron,

You drive a very hard bargain, Caulfield. You know I have a weakness for cute hipster selfies, and you threaten to cut me off? Devious of you. I suppose I have no choice but to comply… for now. Perhaps I’ll have to get my Max photos from somebody else. Unrelated, what’s Kristen’s phone number?

By the way, no need to play coy, Max. I know how much you’d like to see this rockin bod. Too bad for you, you haven’t saved up enough Chloe Points for a nude anyway. You can get more if you keep sending cute selfies, WHEN YOU’RE NOT HOLDING THEM HOSTAGE THAT IS.

But um, more seriously. I kinda felt… super self-conscious about taking these? Yes, I admit that I, Chloe Price, was self-conscious about some stupid pictures. They’re definitely nowhere near as good as yours (bring on the 4 hour lecture!). You spoil me with such great shots all the time, and I just give you this crap. I just don’t have the same eye for this kind of thing as you. Please, o great goddess of the camera, take pity upon an amateur’s poor attempts at art.

That, and, uh. Well, as you can probably see in the pictures, I cut my hair recently. Not really sure why. Maybe because dad always liked it long, and helped me braid it, and would brush it for me, and would hold it back whenever I got sick, and it feels wrong to do any of those things without him? Okay, fine, I know why. I suppose it’s not healthy to just get rid of things that remind me of him, but I couldn’t take the reminder every single morning when I had to deal with it after the shower. It’s already helped some to have it be so short, so I count that as a win.

Besides, I kinda like the short look on me. Makes me feel a bit more badass.

On that note: thank you, Max. It might have sounded patronizing from somebody else, but not from you. I know you get what it’s like, how hard it is to keep doing even the simplest things when you’d much rather not do anything. You’re like the only person other than Joyce who’s been willing to be patient with me, and even her patience only goes so far. So hearing you say you’re proud is honestly one of the best things I could hear right now.

You’ve been inspiring me to do better too. Gotta keep my life together so nothing’s holding us back when we get back together again! It probably goes without saying, but I’d drop everything to come be in Seattle with you, too. I’m counting down the days until I get to see you (which is hard, cause I’m not sure when that is, but I really hope it’s soon) and thinking of everything we’ll do when when it comes. 

No lie, I kinda bought a big atlas of all the states and started planning possible road trip routes for us? I mean, we’re still years off from that for sure, but it pays to be prepared, right? I’m enclosing some pics of a couple different maps I doodled on for your opinions. You probably know some good photo ops I may have missed along the route. Let me know where and I’ll add them to The Plan!

I appreciate your thoughts on the whole David thing, by the way. I can’t exactly be unbiased, so it’s nice to have an outside perspective to keep me somewhat grounded about it. He’s a huge prick, but in a weird way… I guess I can see where mom’s coming from? He seems… fine, I guess, when he thinks I’m not around? I sometimes hear him talking to mom from upstairs and it’s almost like he’s a different person. Honestly not sure if that makes it better or worse. Eventually he might start being just as much of a hard ass to her as he is to me. So yeah, still hate his guts, but trying not to take it out on Joyce too much. I think she’s noticed, and she seems a bit happier lately? So, that’s a plus at least.

On the topic of love: I could go into yet another epic rant about how Max Fucking Caulfield would be the hottest catch in Seattle, but I suspect you’re getting somewhat tired of hearing it. Not that I’m tired of saying it. Instead I’d like to focus on this intriguing idea you put forth. When exactly does this metaphorical dating game clock run out? Is it soon? It should be soon. Otherwise I may have to start covertly sabotaging your dating prospects. I called dibs on that booty if you’ll remember!

Besides, you can’t hold my lack of dates against me, cause I don’t want a boyfriend. Too much work. You’re cuter than all the boys anyway.

Semi-relatedly: you remember how a few months ago we were writing about those old comics we used to make together? I dug mine back out and read through them all again after that to reminisce about how cute Super Max was, and I had the best idea ever. You’d talked about how much you missed working on them together, and I thought, hey, why can’t we still do that? Sorry it took so long for me to follow through on that, but I needed the time to think of some ideas, and to actually start on it. Also, going to make a point to not mention this to you on the phone, since I want it to be a sort of surprise.

Attached with the mediocre photos of yours truly, you’ll find the first couple panels of the latest issue of The Adventures of Super Max and Super Chloe: Partners in Crime! I think I gave you a pretty good starting prompt, so fill in the next couple of panels then send it back! Don’t at all worry about trying to match my style (remember, it’s the blend of our styles working together that makes it great) and don’t worry about sending it back right away with your next letter. If you need some time to think or work on it, no rush! 

Can’t wait to start working on something like this with you again, even if it’s not the same as doing it together in person. Well, something other than our playlist, that is, which is officially a lost cause. Look, I admit some of your indie crap is good, but you Miss Caulfield have a terminal case of hipster. It really is a tonal disaster. Putting it on shuffle feels like trying to watch Blade Runner where every couple minutes it’s interrupted by a segment of Portlandia. 

Who am I kidding, you’d probably like Blade Runner more if that were the case.

Anyway, gotta do Chemistry homework now. Gonna get my grades back up for you! Hope you’re up to something more fun (or nerdy), can’t wait to hear from you.

Your voluptuous voyager,

Lady Admiral Captain Dr. Professor Chloe Elizabeth Price Sr. Esquire LXIX

P.S. Why ride the bus when you could ride me instead


	5. Pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter beta read by the wonderful [Platon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Platon/pseuds/Platon)

> ...and you wouldn’t even believe the nerve of this guy. Talking to my mom like that, right in front of all the other customers! I was so tempted to punch him right in the fucking face. I almost did, I even stood up to walk over to him. But I could practically hear you next to me, like old times, trying to calm me down, telling me not to get into trouble. I could picture how disappointed your next letter would be, hearing about whatever dumb trouble I got into for assaulting some random asshole. I sat back down and Joyce threw the guy out. Crisis averted.
> 
> So yeah, point being, even when you’re not here you’re like 90% of my impulse control. Thanks for that.
> 
> Anyway, you really threw a twist at me with the start of page 3. Of all the things for us to encounter, I wasn’t expecting radioactive alien spiders, haha. Oh but have no fear, for Super Chloe has a plan to deal with them! (I’m actually not all that confident about where I went with it, if you think it’s stupid feel free to retcon it).
> 
> Gonna do some more work on that sketch I promised you now. I know you’re excited, but be patient! You’ll get it once I’m confident it’s as good as you deserve (well, you deserve perfection, but I’ll do my best). Goes without saying, but can’t wait to hear from you.
> 
> Your bodacious buccaneer,
> 
> Captain Bluebeard

Max grinned to herself like an idiot as she read through Chloe’s latest letter for what must’ve been the tenth time that day. Already the page was getting slightly crumpled from her unfolding and refolding it so many times during the brief breaks between classes. She’d have to restrain herself from doing it much more until she could get it back home to store it safely with the others.

“Oh man, is that one of the infamous Chloe letters?” a voice said from behind her. Max folded the pages back up and spun around, but it was just Fernando approaching. Aside from the two of them, there weren’t many other students in the spacious study hall with them, save a group of jocks laughing in one corner and a couple bickering in the other.

“Yeah. It just arrived this morning,” Max said, carefully slipping the letter back in its envelope and tucking it in the front pouch of her messenger bag. The pages of her and Chloe’s joint comic were still on the table in front of her, but she didn’t move to put them away just yet, as she was hoping to get some more work done on her next panels before study hall ended.

“Dude, relax,” Fernando said with a reassuring smile. “I’m not gonna try to sneak a read or anything.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Just… reflex, I guess. Those letters are personal.”

“It’s cool, I get it.” He leaned against her table but didn’t take a seat. “I’ll admit though, I’m a bit curious what she says to get you so giddy.”

“_ Giddy? _ I’m not giddy!”

Fernando snorted. “Dude, have you seen yourself? I can always tell when it’s letter day cause you walk around with this big grin plastered on your face all day. You actually talk to people, _ willingly. _ It’s like… who are you and what have you done with Max the introvert?”

Max blinked. Of course getting Chloe’s letters made for an amazing day, but was she really _ that _obvious? “It’s… I just like hearing from her, okay? Mail takes a while, so it’s not often I get one of these.”

Fernando raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you call her basically every night?”

“Yeah, so?”

“So you hear from her regularly already.”

“What’s your point?”

The look he gave her was odd. “You must really like her, huh?”

Max rolled her eyes. “What a keen observation. She’s only been my best friend since basically forever.”

“Is that it?”

Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Fernando seemed like he was going to say something else, then thought better of it. He shrugged and smiled again. “Ah, never mind. Just glad you’re happy is all. Anyway, Kristen and I are gonna hit up Randy’s later tonight, you in?”

Max debated pressing him further on his exact meaning, but decided to let it drop. Probably nothing anyway. “I don’t know. I’ve gotta at least start on a reply to Chloe, and call her earlier than usual since I’m going to a movie with my parents tonight, and I was hoping to get some shots during the Golden Hour—”

“Aw come on, Max. The Golden Hour is temporary. Randy’s pizza is forever. We can have you home before the movie.”

She was about to retort that pizza would last even shorter than the Golden Hour typically did. And yet, his logic somehow made sense. She had plenty of Golden Hour shots, would no doubt get plenty more. She hadn’t been out with her friends for a few days, and she’d promised Chloe she would socialize more. Besides, thinking about Randy’s pizza was making her mouth water… 

“Alright, fine, you convinced me,” she groaned, though she was smiling. 

Fernando fist pumped. “Yes! Tonight we enjoy our pizza to the max!”

Max groaned again, putting her face in her hands. “Why do I talk to you?”

“No idea!” Fernando said cheerfully as the bell rang. “Whelp, time for me to go die in gym now. Catch you later, Maximus!”

He’d already started for the door, so he missed the glare Max shot at him without thinking. Maximus was one of _ Chloe’s _nicknames for her. Hearing it from someone else felt wrong. She’d have to tell him off for that later. 

She slung her messenger bag over her shoulder and picked up the comic pages. She went to stow them in her bag as she started for the door, but she paused to consider Chloe’s most recent additions again. Super Chloe’s plan to deal with the alien spiders really was unorthodox, to say the least. Max didn’t want to retcon anything of Chloe’s — that went against the whole spirit of this comic, them working to create something together, warts and all — but she was lost for what to add next. Perhaps she’d need to give it a few more hours to breathe, then she could—

Something big and heavy rammed into her from behind. She yelped as she lost her balance. Her hands instinctively released the comic pages to cradle her bag as she toppled to the floor. She landed with a grunt, mercifully on her side opposite the bag. The comic pages fluttered to the floor around her.

Groaning, she looked up and froze at the sight of the group of jocks from the corner. Though all of them were big and burly, the one that had just walked into her was the biggest; he had to be about a head taller than Max was. Though bumping into her didn’t seem to have fazed him in the slightest, he glared down at her like she’d just insulted his mother.

“Watch where you stand, nerd!” he growled. “Right in the middle of the fucking aisle, pay attention for fuck’s sake!”

“S-Sorry,” Max mumbled sheepishly. He was right, stupid of her to just stop walking in the middle of the space between tables. She started to push herself up.

“And what the hell are these?” the jock said, looking at the floor. Too late, Max realized he was staring at the pages of their comic. She lunged for them, but he was faster, snatching them up and bringing them close to his face. 

“Those are personal!” Max yelled, grabbing for them. “Give them back!”

The jock simply held them too high for her to reach and continued to read, laughing as he did. “‘The Adventures of Super Max and Super Chloe?’ Jesus, what kind of cringy bullshit is this?”

_ “Give them back!” _Max surprised herself by trying to shove him. It was like trying to shove a brick wall. He snorted at her efforts.

“Alright fine, you can have them,” he chuckled. He started to lower the pages towards her, and she raised her hands for them.

Then he took them in both hands and tore them in half.

Max gave a choked cry as he took the halves and tore them further, then further still. He threw the pieces in her face, then shoved his way past her, laughing as he went. His friends followed behind him, jeering as they left.

Max stood rooted to the spot for another few seconds before falling to her knees. Tears spilled from her eyes as she hurriedly grabbed all the scraps of paper and tried in vain to piece them back together again. She could fix it if she got some tape, she could still save the comic, all of their hard work couldn’t just be _ gone, _the art she created with Chloe couldn’t just be…

But it was. He’d done a thorough job of it. There were too many pieces. Even the ones she fit together were too mangled to make sense of their carefully laid out panels, their intricately small dialogue. No amount of tape would fix this. Even if it could, it’d be a ruined mockery of what it once was.

The second warning bell rang. Five minutes to her next class. With a choked curse directed at nothing in particular, she shoved the scraps in her bag and went for the door. People in the hallway noticed her tears and whispered, but she didn’t give a shit about what they thought. 

More important was what _ Chloe _would think. God, how upset was she going to be? Would she be angry at Max? She’d have every right to be. If she hadn’t been standing in their way like a fucking idiot… It was her fault all of Chloe’s hard work had gone to waste. 

Would she want to do more comics with Max after this, knowing that Max couldn’t be trusted to keep them safe?

Those thoughts plagued her long after she restrained her tears, and she barely heard anything her teachers said for the rest of the day.

* * *

Chloe’s afternoon had been going well, all things considered. She’d gotten back a Chemistry test with a B- (still not quite her old average, but definitely still climbing out of her slump), been asked out on a date (which was a boost to her ego, even though she’d turned Eliot down; boy oh boy did he give her the creeps), and managed to make it through the whole day without being told off by a teacher for something (not that she hadn’t let some choice comments slip, she’d just been quieter about it). Sure, other people might take a lot of that for granted, but baby steps.

The important thing was that Max would be proud of her. Chloe couldn’t wait to tell her about it all on their call tonight.

She was now vegging out on the living room couch, fresh out of school clothes for a baggy hoodie and shorts, one hand in a bag of Cheetos and the other flipping through channels with the remote. Yet another sign of a great afternoon, when she could munch and relax for once. Those were becoming steadily more common as time went by and she found her groove with schoolwork again. She was resolved to enjoy them as much as she could when they came, even if it meant eating half her body weight in cheesy snacks.

Fate, however, didn’t want her relaxing today.

She heard the front door open, followed by the heavy thud of boots on the carpet. She instinctively tensed and scowled. Sure enough, the dumb brush cut and dumb mustache of one David Madsen made its way through the hall into the living room. Chloe pointedly looked back to the TV, barely paying attention to the channels she flipped past.

“Your mother’s not home yet?” he said in that stern _ ‘Respect mah authority’ _voice he always used on her.

“Kathy’s running late,” Chloe said in the flattest, most neutral tone she could manage. “Mom’s covering the start of her shift. She’ll be another hour.”

David grunted. She really hoped he would leave after that, but he pulled his jacket off and draped it across one of the dining room chairs. “Don’t you have homework to be doing?”

Chloe had to bite back the sarcastic remark that came so easily to her lips, _ “Don’t you have a job to be finding?” _She closed her eyes and sucked a deep breath in, trying to hold Max’s advice firmly in her mind.

_ Don’t give him a reason to be more of a douche than he already is… Reign it in, Chlo… _

“Midterms this week. No homework to do.”

“Then shouldn’t you be studying?”

“Last test was this morning.”

“Your chores?”

_ Fuck. _

“Was gonna do them after my call with Max.”

“You drag those calls on way too long—”

“It’ll be short tonight,” she said through gritted teeth. “She’s going to a movie with her parents later.”

David paused, as though trying to think of something else to badger her about, then grudgingly sighed. “Alright, since your grades have been better lately. As soon as you’re off the phone though—”

She missed the rest of his sentence, screaming internally as she was. _ You’re not my fucking dad! Stop trying to be! _She restrained herself from saying it, barely.

“Got it. Chores. Will do.”

That _ finally _seemed to satisfy him. Unfortunately, he still didn’t leave. One of the dining room chairs scraped against the floor as he sat down, loudly unfolding a newspaper. Not that Chloe was listening to the TV anyway, but it still annoyed her to no end.

_ Well, so much for relaxing, _Chloe thought with a long and heavy huff. Even the Cheetos had lost their luster. Perhaps she could still salvage it if she moved up to her room, but didn’t she have a right to relax in her own damn living room? Besides, she needed to wait for—

The phone had been ringing for about a second by the time Chloe was on her feet and bolting for it. David barked something at her she didn’t hear. She pulled the handset up to her ear, grinning broadly and trying not to sound as excited as she felt. God, Max would probably find it pathetic just how excited she was after how long they’d been doing this.

“Afternoon, Maxaroni,” Chloe managed in a _ mildly _excited tone. Just the right amount for talking to your best friend. Your really cute, dorky best friend.

“...Hey, Chlo,” came the soft reply after a long moment.

Just like that, Chloe’s excitement evaporated, her face becoming serious. “Max? You okay?”

“...Yeah, I’m fine. Just… rough day at school. I got your letter, though.” It broke Chloe’s heart how Max tried and failed to sound upbeat about that.

“What happened at school?”

“Nothing, just… dumb jerks.”

Chloe became _ very _serious. “Did someone hurt you?”

“What? No, no, I’m fine, really, pinky promise. What happened was my fault anyway…”

“How?”

“It’s… dumb, but… try not to hate me, okay?” Chloe could hear Max sniffling on the other end of the line, trying to hold it together. She was torn between worry for her friend and anger at whoever had made Max feel this way. What Chloe would give to be in Seattle right now, to hold Max close and tell her it would be okay… 

“Max,” Chloe said as softly yet firmly as she could. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. Max and Chloe forever, right?”

“R-Right, but—”

“But nothing. I could never hate you, pinky promise. Talk to me, Max. Please.”

A long pause from the other end of the line. Chloe waited patiently, knowing Max needed time to gather her thoughts. If Max wasn’t going to tell her, she’d have tried to change the subject already. When you’d shared as many secrets as they had, talking through stuff like this became second nature.

“...Our comic is gone, Chloe,” Max whispered.

Chloe blinked. “What?”

“I-I had it out in study hall, and I was working on it,” Max started rambling, “and I got up and I went to put it away but I just stood there looking at it like an idiot, and I blocked this big dude who ran into me, so he took the pages and he ripped them up—”

“He did _ what?” _Chloe growled, her hand clenching around the phone at the thought.

“God, it was so stupid of me!” Max mumbled, choking on her words. “I wasn’t paying attention, I’m so sorry, Chloe…”

Damn it. God _ damn it. _ She’d been scared this would happen as soon as she’d learned Max was moving. She’d always used to protect Max from bullies and comfort her afterwards. Knowing Max was still facing that kind of treatment where Chloe couldn’t reach made her feel so angry and _ helpless. _

“Max,” Chloe managed, trying to get her seething rage at a faceless asshole she’d never meet in check. Curse him later. Help Max now. “Listen to me. It was not your fault.”

“I blocked the whole aisle standing there like an idiot—”

“And he could’ve seen you and moved,” Chloe retorted. “That was no reason to ruin something of yours. _ That guy _is the asshole here, not you. It’s not your fault.”

“B-But—”

“But nothing. You remember what I used to tell you about bullies?”

Max sniffled. “Um… aim for the balls?”

Chloe almost managed a smirk. She was making jokes, a good sign. “Well, yes, but no. The other thing.”

“I… I don’t…”

“You don’t deserve it, no matter what they say. _ It is not your fault. _I won’t let you believe that. You trust me, right?”

Another pause. “Yes… I trust you, Chloe. With my life.”

Chloe tried to ignore the way her heart skipped a beat at that. “Good. Now say it with me. _ It’s not your fault.” _

“It’s… not my fault…”

“Again, but mean it this time.”

“It’s not my fault.” Max took an audibly shaky breath. “That guy _was _a massive asshole…”

“Yes he was, and I’d give him a good kick to the gonads if I were there with you.”

“I know you would… Remember how the boys used to call you Nutcracker?”

Chloe laughed. “They still do around here. I’m not against spreading the name to Seattle though.”

Max chuckled, still sniffling. “Still, Chlo… I’m sorry about the comic, you worked so hard on it—”

“Hey, what did we just get done saying? _ You _ have nothing to be sorry for. And you worked just as hard on it. It was _ ours. _Yeah, it’s a bummer, but you know what that means?”

“...What?”

“We get to start a fresh one! A blank slate, with none of that, erm… _ top-notch _planning by Super Chloe mucking things up.”

“You’re right,” Max said, her voice noticeably perking up. “I guess that means waiting until your next letter to work on it, but—”

“Oh no no, Caulfield, I made the starting panels last time. This time, _ you _get to decide the setting and prompt.”

“O-Oh, um… Sure! I can do that. I have a couple ideas I could use, I’ll have to pick one out…”

“Or better yet, draft them both up and send both! We could work on _ two _comics at once!”

“Oooh, that would give us a backup in case another asshole happens!”

“Now that’s a good way to look at it!”

The knot in Chloe’s chest unraveled as the melancholy tone faded from Max’s voice. In no time they were chatting and joking like usual, talking about their days down to the most minute and pointless of details. Nothing was too boring to discuss if it was with Max. And today even the more mundane bits took on extra poignancy, considering how their talk had started. Chloe held onto every word, savoring the audible smile in Max’s voice.

All the things she’d give to see that smile in person again, to protect it against all the bullies the world could throw at her…

“Well, I’m sorry to cut this off early tonight, Chlo,” Max said after a long while, sounding genuinely remorseful. “I promised Fernando I’d get pizza with him and Kristen before the movie—”

“Hey, don’t worry about it, okay?” Chloe said, feeling thrilled that Max was being sociable, even if it did make her a little jealous. “I gotta do chores now anyway. Have a fun night, Maxitron!”

“Bye, Chloe! Talk to you tomorrow!”

Chloe huffed as she put the handset back on the receiver. Talking to Max always put her in a good mood, but today there was a dark cloud lingering above it. Max’s reaction to the bully’s treatment of her profoundly bothered Chloe. If Max could be so easily convinced that something like that was _ her _fault…

“Max usually have a lot of bully trouble?”

It took Chloe a moment to realize that David had just spoken to her. She reflexively tensed, but the authoritative tone he usually used with her was absent. She rounded the corner to find him staring at the table, a strange look on his face.

“...Yeah,” Chloe said cautiously. “I used to keep them off her, but… now…”

David grunted. “I… had a good friend in the army like that. Scrawny guy, really good with tech. Some of the meatheads in our unit loved to give him grief. They’d break his gear, then he’d take the blame when our CO got mad.”

Chloe shifted uneasily on her feet. She’d known David was a vet, but he’d never spoken to her about his service before. Not that she’d ever cared to hear it, but there was something in his words now that resonated with her.

“Did you help him?” she found herself asking.

He grimaced. “I tried. Kept them away from him whenever I could, but I couldn’t be there all the time. And I could never make him stop taking the blame for what they did. I wasn’t as… patient about it as you. I think he appreciated it, though, since he kept wanting me for his patrol buddy. We didn’t part on the best of terms, but I’d still step in to help him if I could.”

He looked up at her, his expression as strange and unreadable as his voice. “You’re a good friend to Max, Chloe. She needs someone that can convince her she doesn’t deserve that kind of treatment. Keep working on that with her, will you?”

Holy shit. For once, David and Chloe agreed on something. The planets must’ve been aligning overhead. Despite her shock, she managed to say, “I will.”

David nodded. Then, he put his serious face back on and went back to reading the newspaper. She expected him to snap at her to get to the chores she’d promised, but no such reminder came, even as Chloe stood there for another minute in a daze.

Fucking— Did she and David just have a _ moment? _

_ If it HAD to happen, of course it would be over Max. Damn you, Caulfield. You’re getting some very strong words about this in my next letter… _

Still a bit shaken, Chloe moved to do the chores anyway. She’d already said she would do them, after all. Least she could do was stick to her word, even if it was her word to _ David. _Just a one time thing, surely. He’d find some tiny thing to be a dick about soon, and all would be normal with the world. 

And yet, despite its source, Chloe couldn’t help feeling proud to be called a good friend to Max. However uncertain the rest of her future felt at times, that was one thing she was certain she would always want to be.

* * *

**Bonus Section  
**

**Fernando: **Hey weird question

**Kristen: **Weird answer

**Fernando: **Okay so

**Fernando: **Let me know if this seems a bit out there, but

**Fernando: **Do you think Max could have a thing for her friend Chloe?

**Kristen: **…

**Kristen: **...are you serious?

**Fernando: **I seriously think it could be possible, hear me out

**Kristen: **No, I mean

**Kristen: **Are you seriously just now figuring this out

**Fernando: **Wait what

**Kristen: **Dude it’s been super obvious

**Kristen: **Like basically the whole time we’ve known her

**Fernando: **It has???

**Kristen: **Fern

**Kristen: **She has a WALL dedicated to Chloe’s selfies and drawings

**Kristen: **Right above her bed

**Fernando: **...hmm

**Fernando: **You know when you put it like that

**Kristen: **What the hell did you think it meant??

**Fernando: **Idk some kind of hipster feng shui thing??

**Kristen: **You’re an idiot

**Fernando: **I never claimed not to be

  
  



	6. This Girl Matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies in advance for the shorter chapter this week. This one was originally going to be about something else. Then I kinda went on rant through the characters and now here we are.
> 
> Recently I found myself in a conversation where someone suggested that Max being bullied in the last chapter was entirely her fault for being "too weak to dissuade it" or some victim-blaming bullshit like that. I would like to dedicate this chapter as a hearty "Fuck You" to that person in particular. Chloe "Nutcracker" Price would like to have a word with you.
> 
> Anyway. On with the story.

Dear Max, 

Surprise! You get an extra letter from me this month. I couldn’t wait for your next reply. There’s some important stuff I’ve gotta say that I didn’t get to over the phone (David was in the room). Sorry but this one’s gonna be all serious stuff. 

I could rant about the asshole who tore up our comic, but he doesn’t deserve my attention. I’m more worried about you and how you reacted to it. Not that I would’ve reacted well (I’d probably try to deck him in the nuts) but your thought process behind it worries me, enough that I decided to sit my ass down and write this instead of taking a hit or going skating. 

It scares me a lot that when someone did something bad to you, your first thought was to blame yourself. Not only that, but you seemed to think I would hate you for it. I hope I don’t have to explain why that bothers me so much, but I will anyway just to drive the point through your pretty head. 

First off: I don’t think it’s physically possible for me to ever, EVER hate you, Max. I admit that part of me wanted to during the months we didn’t talk, but even then, I never could. If I couldn’t hate you for that, then how the hell could I hate you for something that wasn’t even your fault? And even if it had been, over something so small? I love our comics, but I love our friendship a hell of a lot more. I love YOU a hell of a lot more. 

And I’ll be honest, it bothers me that you think I COULD hate you so easily. I get where you’re coming from – anxiety brain is a bitch – but it still makes me feel... I don’t know, like I’m not doing enough to show you how much I care? Granted, I know I’ve sometimes wondered how you don’t hate me, even though I know you couldn’t. So, let’s try to work on that together, okay? I don’t ever want you to doubt my friendship, and I don’t ever want to doubt yours. 

Second: victim blaming yourself. Fucking hell, I REALLY hope I don’t have to explain why this scares me. This kind of thinking is so, so harmful to you, even on “small” things like this dumb bully. If something more serious happened, like someone hurt you or... God even thinking about it makes me sick. Like, legit no joke, I have the trash can next to me as I write this. 

I know I drilled this into your head over the phone, but it bears so much more repetition. What happened was NOT YOUR FAULT, and you absolutely DID NOT DESERVE IT. I don’t care that you stopped in the aisle, fucking everyone does that. Taking something you treasured and destroying it was inexcusable. Be angry at him, not at yourself. 

And please please please, no matter what happens or whose fault it is, TALK TO ME ABOUT IT. If you think it’s your fault, and that makes you try to hide it... Jesus, Max, I hate thinking about all the ways people could take advantage of you. You talked to me today, but only after I prodded it out of you. You said you trust me with your life, right? So come to me straight away, and whatever it is, I’ll stand by you. We’re Max and Chloe forever, even when we’re apart. 

I wish I could be there to protect you from this sort of thing. The sad truth is that I can’t. You couldn’t live your life with me constantly looming over your shoulder. I want you to be able to stand up for yourself, to value yourself the way I do, Max: as someone worth all the good the world has to offer. 

I really wish I could hug you right now. I mean, I wish that basically all the time, but right now more than usual. You're my best friend, and I care so so much about you. I’ve been taking better care of myself with your help, but you need to do the same. Like everything else, I’ll help you through it. 

Anyway, that’s a wrap on Chloe’s Epic Spontaneous Rant. Stay tuned for next’s week rant on “Why Max Caulfield is the fucking cutest.” Since this isn’t one of our standard letters, don’t feel the need to reply to this one. I do want you to promise you’ll try to be kinder to yourself, though. I’m throwing in a couple of treats to help you get started. 

You mean more to me than I can say, Max. Counting down to the next time I hear from you. 

Your best friend, 

Chloe 

P.S. Just so this letter isn’t 100% serious: tits vagina bitch ass motherfucker sex joke. 

[Attached to the envelope are three packets of Max’s favorite brand of tea. Enclosed alongside the letter is a single polaroid: one of Max’s Golden Hour selfies, with the caption “This girl matters” scrawled in the bottom margin.] 

* * *

Dear Chloe, 

I know you said I didn’t have to reply. Well, too bad, I’m gonna do it anyway. This is what you get for encouraging my rebellious side. 

I could spend this entire letter apologizing for all the crap you talked about. I could say sorry for making you worry, sorry for bothering you with my dumb bullshit, sorry for making you feel like you constantly have to be taking care of me. I could, but I won’t. I already know what you’d say to all of it. So, as much as I want to, I won’t apologize for any of that. 

Instead, I’m going to say thank you, Chloe. Thank you for worrying about me when I was down and needed a lift. Thank you for listening to all of my dumb bullshit when I needed someone to talk to. Thank you for always being there to help me, even when we’re apart. Thank you for being the best friend ever and going out of your way to write that letter. You even remembered my favorite kind of tea! You don’t have to worry about not showing me enough that you care. You’ve done that a thousand times over in so many little ways. 

You know what it’s like, living with Anxiety Brain. It constantly needles you about the smallest of things. Even when you logically know something’s not true, something’s not your fault, it’ll convince you otherwise. I know you could never hate me, Chloe, but the possibility scared me so much that it was all I could focus on. It’s only able to do that because I treasure our friendship so much. It’s probably the most painful lie my brain could tell. 

The same kinds of lies lead to me thinking that everything bad MUST be my fault. Logically I know that’s not true, but there’s always this little voice in the back of my head, whispering about what a screw up I am. I’ve tried to fight it on my own, but you know how well that turned out. I’d have kept spiraling in that direction forever without you to pull me back to reality. 

So, instead of apologizing like I want to, I’m going to promise you I’ll do better. I’m going to come to you with things like this and trust that you’ll help me through them. I’m going to hang that picture you sent next to all my pictures of you, to remind me how you care. I’m... going to bite the bullet and talk to my parents about professional help for my anxiety, in whatever form that takes. I’ll do better, little by little. 

None of this would be possible for me without you, Chloe. You make me want to do better, to care about myself the way you do. I’m so, so happy that I’ve encouraged you to keep better care of yourself too. That’s how I know what we have is special, you know? We make each other better as people, even when we’re apart. I can only imagine what it’ll be like when we’re back together again. That day can’t come soon enough. 

Thank you for everything, Chloe. I can’t imagine a better shipmate. 

Your best friend, 

Max 

P.S. But how can you rant about me being the cutest, when it is scientifically provable that YOU are the cutest 

[Enclosed alongside the letter are two polaroids. The first is a selfie of Max, smiling with watery eyes as she holds the tea Chloe sent her. The second is one of Chloe’s selfies, with the caption “This girl inspires me” scrawled in the bottom margin.] 


	7. How to Care

Dear Chlorine, 

Normally I’d start out with something light-hearted to not kill whatever good mood you get from opening my letters, but I gotta say it right away: I’m kinda freaking the fuck out right now. 

Finals are coming up soon. Notices got given out to everyone who’s in danger of failing classes if we don’t get above specific grades on the tests, and I got a couple, specifically for science and math. That was earlier this week. I didn’t say anything on the phone cause I haven’t told my parents and didn’t want them to hear. 

It’s hard to think of a time I’ve ever been more anxious about anything. I saw a specialist recently who prescribed some medication for my anxiety (just like I promised I would) but apparently it takes some time to really kick in and I haven’t been taking it for very long. It’s beyond frustrating to know that there’s really not much I can do about it until the meds decide to work, if they even do! Apparently some meds just don’t work for some people, and the only way to know is to try a bunch and see what sticks! Why did I have to start this NOW of all times? 

I’m really scared of failing, Chloe. I was never any good at taking tests, not like you were. I hate feeling like my whole future is staked on this! What if I’m held back a grade? All the friends I’ve made here would move on without me, and I’d have to start over again! And you’d get to go to college while I’d still be stuck in high school! What college would even take me after that? All that just because of some stupid tests! 

There’s some kids in my class that just laughed when they got their notices. I almost wish I could do that, just to avoid this constant stress. In a way, it must be nice to just... not care? I have no idea how to do that. I always care way too much about everything. (Including you, but I’m very okay with caring way too much about you.) 

So, instead of dealing with the problem, I’m sitting here writing to you. I know I should be studying like crazy but my brain sees all the stuff I don’t know and it just kinda shuts down and tries its best to think about literally anything else. Writing to you was my first instinct to help make myself feel better. I wish you were here. You made studying bearable, and you made a good tutor, even if I sometimes used your shoulder as a pillow. 

I need to talk about something else now. If I keep thinking about this I might start crying. 

Outside of looming tests that make me want to pull my hair out, school has been going okay. I’ve gone out with Kristen and Fernando a lot more recently, and have started getting to know some of their other friends. I wouldn’t call any of them more than acquaintances at the moment, but I really like a few of them. I’m hoping I can make proper friends with some of them soon, when I’m not quite as stressed out. (Before you ask: no romantic prospects, and none of them could ever replace you.) 

Speaking of that, Kristen and Fernando have been acting a little weird lately. They’ve been asking lots of questions about you. I mean, I talk about you to them a lot, but now they’ve actually started asking for details. Stuff like what we used to do for fun, what we talk about on the phone, your favorite foods and colors. Not that I mind sharing, but it’s a bit strange to me that they’re suddenly so keen on knowing all this stuff about you? Not sure what’s up there. Maybe they’re hoping to meet you someday? I would like to introduce you to them. 

And speaking of THAT: I finally got some news on how I might be able to see you again! It’s not as soon as I would like though. Basically, my parents are making me save up for the trip down there myself. Since I don’t really have a job or much of an allowance, that might take a while. I’ll have to cut back on my film usage, since that eats up almost all of my allowance, but if it means getting to see you, then it’s worth it. Still, that means you’ll have to deal with receiving a few less selfies for a while. 

By the way, I have to say, I LOVE what you did with the detailing and shading on your most recent panels! It makes Super Max look like such a badass, which isn’t a word I ever thought I could use to describe myself. You always put so much effort into drawing me, and it really makes me feel special. I really wish I could do the same for you. I am getting better, though I don’t think I’ll ever be as good as you! 

Sadly, I probably won’t have much time to work on our comics for a bit (see above). Once the death march through finals is over I’ll get back to them right away. Gives me plenty of time to think up the next plot twist! I need something that can match your last one. Seriously, the teacher as the villain? I never saw it coming, but it made such perfect sense! I’m not sure how I can top that, but I’ll do my best! 

So... yeah. Stressed Max, fewer selfies for a bit, and no comics for a bit. This has been such a happy letter. I’m really sorry, it’s just a rough time right now. You’re probably gonna be getting like full size novels from me over Christmas break. 

God, now I’m worrying about not doing enough to show how much I care. We promised to work on that. Simple fact is that sometimes shit gets in the way. Life is weird like that. No real way to avoid it, no sense in beating myself up over it. I do always wish I could talk to you more, have more time for you, be a better friend to you than I am currently, but sometimes I can’t, and like you keep saying, not everything is my fault. I’m doing the best I can under the circumstances I think, and for now that has to be enough. 

You do deserve so much more though, and I promise you’ll get it once this rough period is over. Thank you for being my anchor through it, even though you’re going through similar shit of your own. So, now that my rant about my problems is out of the way, I invite you to rant about yours. Fill my mailbox with all your test and friend related stress. I probably can’t do much about them from here, but I can and will always listen. Sometimes that’s all I really need, someone to listen. You’ve always been that person for me, and I’ll always be that person for you. 

Alright. Should make an attempt to study. Or maybe smash my head against a brick wall for twenty minutes. We’ll see which one helps more. Keeping our next call in mind to push me through it. 

Your Floundering Friend, 

Max 

P.S. If you were a Pokemon, you’d totally be a Houndour. Very fierce and fiery tempered at times, but also very loyal and protective. And also addicted to bacon. 

P.P.S. And also great to cuddle with (I assume) 

* * *

Dear Maxicillin, 

I know I usually open these with some kind of rude joke or other, but I think it’s more important that I start with how proud I am of you for recognizing that none of this is your fault (Also hella proud that you started getting treatment!) Am I bummed that our letters have to be shorter and contain a few less goodies for a while? Of course. But that’s how life gets sometimes. I’m glad you realized that, and I absolutely do not hold any of it against you. If anything, it gives me more incentive to survive finals, knowing that our comics and your selfies are waiting on the other side. 

I know it probably doesn’t help all that much, but you’re definitely not alone in the worry about finals. My grades have been climbing back up, but I’m not to the point where passing is a guarantee yet. I still need to do well on the finals. Not just to pass, but also worrying about how it will look on transcripts. Mom’s been pushing me to apply for Blackwell here in town, and we don’t have the money to pay for that without scholarships. 

And... it’s weird. She talks about me going to Blackwell, and I actually want to go. Well, not that I really WANT to be in school, who the hell does, but like. You get what I mean, right? I want to make mom proud. I want to do good enough in school to do that. 

You mentioned wishing you could just not care about any of it. Well, I’ve been there before, and trust me, it sucks. Those months before we started talking again? I didn’t care about any of it. Dad was gone, you were gone, nothing mattered anymore except escaping it. And it did feel good short term, but it didn’t really help me. Over time it just made things even worse. I don’t want to think about what paths I could have gone down if you hadn’t come back into my life. 

I still have to fight it sometimes. There are days when I’ll look at something of dad’s, or mom will say something about him, and all that shittiness comes rushing back like it just happened. It will feel like nothing matters anymore and I’ve been stupid to pretend otherwise, like I’ve been stupid to care about things again because it just leads to getting hurt. I’ve been having these days less often recently, but it still happens. And maybe it will forever. Maybe losing your dad isn’t something you ever recover from. Jesus Christ I still miss him so fucking much, Max. I know he’d want me to keep going, but thinking about that doesn’t motivate me, it just drags me down even further. 

You know what does keep me going, though? You do, Max. You came back when I needed you and haven’t left me since, even when we’re hundreds of miles apart. When I’m feeling down, I can look at your pictures, read your handwriting, hear your voice, and start to think, “Hey, maybe things aren’t okay right now, but they will be again. She believes in you.” You’ve taught me how to care again, Max. You say you care too much, but that’s better than not caring at all. So whatever happens, keep on caring. 

(For the record: you’re adorable when you really care about something. It’s what makes taking pictures with you so fun. And for another record: I care way too much about you too.) 

I know this will probably get to you after your finals are over, but you can do it. You’re Max Fucking Caulfield, photographer extraordinaire. You’re gonna make those tests your bitch. And if the worst DOES happen, well, then I guess I’m taking a gap year before college, aren’t I? Ain’t no way I’m leaving my first mate behind for what should be our greatest adventure. I’m with you through anything, Maxi. But we don’t have to worry about that, cause you’re gonna do great! 

Also, HOLY FUCKING SHIT YES SAVE EVERY PENNY YOU CAN. I’ll miss your selfies but it’s worth going a few weeks or months without them if it means I get to see the real thing sooner. I’m gonna start stockpiling snacks and shitty romcoms in advance. I’ll even go clean out our old tree fort! Be warned though, once I have you I’m never letting you leave, so say your goodbyes to your parents and friends in advance. Gah even thinking about it is so exciting, and yet so painful at the same time because we don’t know how long we have to wait. Hopefully not long! I’d send you what money I have to supplement your fund but uh... I kinda have none money right now. I could start selling some of my CDs and skating gear. Say the fucking word and I will find us the money whatever it takes. 

You’ll have to find a way to smuggle Kristen and Fernando with you, I’m interested to meet anyone who could draw my Max out of her shell. And they’re interested in me too now? You must really like to talk about me. Can’t get me off your mind, is that it? I know, I’m very distracting. Must be my roguish charms, they work even on unsuspecting hipsters. 

For real though, thank you for be willing to listen to all of my shit, too. We’ve got quite a lot of baggage between the two of us, eh? But it’s okay. We can carry it all together until we’re ready to chuck it overboard to make room for more booty (Specifically: more cute hipster booty). Things will get better for us, Max. I’m really glad I can actually believe that again. 

Welp, I’ve got studying of my own I should get to before David comes and snaps at me (though, weirdly he’s been less of an ass about it lately). Next time we exchange letters, we’ll be free for a bit! Expect lots of drawings and gushing words then. For now, just remember: you’ve got this! 

Your Studious Stereotype, 

Price. (Takes off sunglasses) Chloe Price. 

P.S. If you were a Pokemon, you’d be a Clefairy. A very rare find and shy around strangers, but mysterious, magical, and very adorable. Also, pink. Lots of pink. 

P.P.S. I’m fucking excellent to cuddle with, I’ll prove it to you when I see you next 


	8. The Best Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let it be known: I'm aware that in canon Max and Chloe probably had cell phones at this point. Here they don't, by the power of I say they don't. Yeah that's not the best excuse, but it makes things cuter in the long run okay? And that's the goal here: maximum cute.
> 
> Anyway: enjoy, and merry Christmas!

The envelope was very clearly marked, in Max’s neat handwriting, as “DO NOT OPEN UNTIL CHRISTMAS DAY!” Chloe had been torn since receiving it the week before. On the one hand, she wanted to respect Max’s wishes and prove that she deserved Max’s trust, even if Max herself would never find out. She’d marked her own letter to Max in a similar fashion, after all. On the other, there’d literally never been a Christmas present meant for her that she hadn’t snuck an early peak at. 

So, like the rebel she was, she decided to open it at 11:58 PM on Christmas Eve. Yeah, take that, Max! 

Chloe opened the envelope eagerly, trying not to tear it open too loudly. If David heard he’d probably dress her down for being up so late, even on Christmas. Well... maybe he wouldn’t, he’d been a bit laxer lately, but... she wasn’t gonna take chances. 

What she pulled out wasn’t the collection of notebook sheets she’d come to expect, but two pages of thick paper. The first had a reddish tint to it, framed around the edge by stylized tinsel with wreaths at the corners. The handwriting covering it was that familiar, neat scrawl she’d come to know and love. Just seeing it was enough to get her grinning, even before she’d begun reading her best friend’s words. 

> Dear Chloe, 
> 
> If I know you as well as I think I do, you stayed up until midnight to open this. Or, more likely, you waited until a couple minutes before, like a smartass. 

Chloe couldn’t help laughing, though she stifled it quickly. Damn it. Of course Max would know. 

> Either way, that lets me be the first to tell you: MERRY CHRISTMAS! 
> 
> Alright, you know me, the super sap. It’s time to get sappy on this, the best of days for sappiness. Proceed at your own risk. 
> 
> So Christmas is supposed to be all about appreciating the people you love, right? Well, now’s the perfect time for some good old-fashioned Chloe Price appreciation. I need to say it more often, but god damn do I appreciate you, more than I can properly express. Your encouragement pulled me out of a dark place, got me living my life again. I’ve gone out more, I’ve made new friends, I’ve taken more photos than my poor film supply can keep up with. Even when we’re apart, you’re such a good influence on me. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t wish we could be back together again. If I could have anything I wanted for Christmas, it would be that. As is, just getting to talk to you is the best gift I could ask for. 
> 
> Okay, sappiness over. Now, I know we promised each other no presents so we could save up for my trip down to you. But, this being an extra special holiday and you being an extra special friend, I couldn’t just NOT give you something. I originally wanted to make a big album for you, but that would take a lot of film and I need to ration it for a while, so... I’m still not GREAT at drawing compared to you, but I really put a lot of work into it. I hope you like it. 
> 
> I could go on for a lot longer, but this Christmas stationery is kinda pricey and Mom would only let me have this one page. You can hear the rest of my epic “Chloe Price is the fucking best” speech when we talk later today! Gotta help Mom wrap Dad’s presents now (she got him a new shaving kit, talk about passive aggressive). Hope you and Joyce have a good holiday without too much David getting in the way. 
> 
> Merry Christmas, Chloe. 
> 
> Your best friend forever, 
> 
> Max 
> 
> P.S. All I want for Christmas is you. Congrats, you now have the song stuck in your head. 

Chloe swore, though she was still smiling. Max knew how much she hated that song, the little shit. But she’d have her revenge during their call... 

Skimming through the letter again, Chloe’s brow furrowed at Max’s mention of a present. That she’d sent a drawing surprised Chloe. Chloe had sent a lot of them, but Max was too self-conscious about her art skills – undeservedly so – to show them off anywhere other than their comics. Curious, Chloe set the letter aside and held up the second piece of paper. 

Her breath caught in her chest. It was a portrait, sketched and shaded with charcoal pencils, of Chloe’s father. 

It wasn’t a masterpiece by any stretch. His nose was off-center, his jawline a bit too crooked. There were light smudges in places where it was apparent Max had erased and started fresh. But it was recognizably William Price, and if anything, its imperfections just made it better. Perfect hyper-realistic sketches always seemed uncanny, like they’d been done by a machine. The flaws were proof that someone – no, not just someone, _ Max – _had gone through the effort to make this for Chloe. 

Chloe sat heavily on her bed, her eyes watering as she stared at the drawing. Max didn’t give herself nearly enough credit. She’d even managed to capture his... not _ carelessness, _ that wasn’t the right word. Maybe _ carefree _was better. That look in his eyes and that smile on his lips that made you feel like, no matter what happened, everything would turn out alright. 

She hugged the drawing gently to her chest as a few tears slipped free. The hurt she felt at his absence never fully went away, but it surged forward on days like today, meant for being with the ones you love. It came strongly now, that awful, hollow ache in her chest as she thought of all the things she could’ve said and would say, but would never get the chance to. 

In the morning, she would take her seat next to the Christmas tree, as she always did. The tree, once filled with ornaments and tinsel by her and William, would be mostly bare. There’d be no one to sit beside her as she opened her presents, no one to have snowball fights with the crumpled wrapping paper, no one to share a mug of hot chocolate with and enjoy Christmas cartoons. 

Chloe eventually had to set the drawing down and shove her face into a pillow to muffle her crying. She didn’t try to hold it back, but let her grief flow freely for the first time in months. She’d been doing so well up to now. She’d known today could be bad, but not as bad their first Christmas without him. Then she’d basically been catatonic, showing no excitement about presents or cookies or anything. All the pain she’d felt then was fresh again. 

But... back then, she’d thought she’d lost Max too. She hadn’t had the constant phone calls, selfies, comics, and most importantly, their letters. She hadn’t had the healing that Max provided from afar with nothing but words and a camera. 

When the worst of the sobbing subsided, Chloe sat back up and wiped her eyes, gingerly taking Max’s letter and drawing over to her desk. In the bottommost drawer, carefully organized into folders, were all of the letters Max had sent, along with all of her photos that weren’t selfies – those were hanging around Chloe’s room. Chloe slipped the latest letter into the latest folder, then pulled out the very first letter and began to reread it. 

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there tracing back over all of Max’s words to her. She hardly needed any reminders on the context for any of them; she'd reread them all so many times she’d committed many of them to memory. All of Max’s laughs and sorrows, her worries and her cares, all put to paper for Chloe’s eyes alone. Sometimes there’d be a few letters in a row with nothing noteworthy happening, but they continued to poke fun and talk about nothing anyway. Others were mostly serious, with plenty of venting and reassurances for the other’s venting. Even some more... _ personal _conversations that would mortify Chloe to consider saying to anyone else. 

They hadn’t discussed Chloe’s dad much. She’d never known what to say. What could she say without dragging Max down too? What could Max say to make her feel better? 

_ It doesn’t matter. Just talking to her makes me feel better. _

And so did rereading her old letters. Little by little, the aching in Chloe's chest receded, and her breathing returned to normal again. She managed a smile at the letter in her hands. While the good feeling lasted, she took Max’s sketch of William and pinned it to the wall next to the window. 

No, she wasn’t okay yet. But she was getting better. Eventually, with Max’s help, everything would be alright again.

* * *

Max’s brain took a bit to get going. Her first few thoughts were hazy grumbles about the sunlight waking her up. Once it finally clicked what day it was, her mind kicked into overdrive as her eyes snapped open. 

_ It’s Christmas! _

She practically leaped out of bed and rushed to her desk. A sealed envelope bearing Chloe’s handwriting was waiting atop a small box wrapped in festive Christmas paper. She’d been slightly miffed when it arrived the week before – she and Chloe had promised not to get each other presents to save money for their reunion – but Chloe had repeatedly promised over the phone that she hadn’t spent money. And after all, how could Max _ not _get excited about a present from her best friend? 

Tempted as she was, she tore open the envelope first. It had been so hard having one of Chloe’s letters so close for so long and not opening it. A big grin lit up her face as she pulled the sheets of notebook paper out and saw the many doodles of Santa and Christmas trees that filled the margins. So dorky, so artsy, so _ Chloe. _

> Dear Max, 
> 
> That’s right, no nicknames for this one. This one’s important. Well, everything from me is important, but this one is Extra Important. If you’re opening this when you’re supposed to (I’ll know if you don’t, I’ve got Super Chloe Senses) then I hope I’m the first to tell you: 
> 
> MERRY CHRISTMAS, MAX! 
> 
> That’s right, you get a Christmas card from the one and only Captain Chloe. You know who else gets Christmas cards from her? Nobody. You, Max Caulfield, are special. You know what else you get that no one else gets? A PRESENT. Yeah, I sent you one even though we said we didn’t have to! Cause you, the one and only Max Fucking Caulfield, are EXTRA special. (Well, okay, I got Joyce something too, but that doesn’t count) 
> 
> Pinky promise I didn’t spend money on it. It’s not much, just something we had lying around the house. You might remember dad’s old camera he always used for us? Well, it’s not exactly getting used much anymore (except for my selfies to you) so I figured you could make better use of it all. You’ll have to let me know if it doesn’t work with your camera or something. It comes with a condition though: you have to use all of it for adorkable selfies! I need more photos for the Wall of Max, and now you can’t use rationing film as an excuse! 
> 
> And now, because Christmas and all, is the part where I get mushy. Only for you, Max, only for you. Bear with me a moment. 
> 
> I know I’ve beaten this horse to death, but I can never say it enough: You are the absolute best friend a girl could ask for. I got my fall report card back a couple days ago, and I managed a B average! Not back up to my old standard yet, but it’s a hell of a lot better than I did in spring! I couldn’t have managed that without your constant support and encouragement. It’s so motivating to know that I’ve got you cheering me on, and that you’ll stick with me even if I slip up. 
> 
> I know I’ve had a lot of slip ups this year. Your patience through it all has been a godsend. Thank you for everything, Maxi. I promise you I’m going to do even better this next year. Even if it means I have to try getting along with David. It sounds like I’ll have to, since he seems to be invited to Christmas, but... I don’t know, he’s been less of a douche lately. Maybe it will be tolerable. 
> 
> Definitely planning to call you today to wish you merry Christmas too. Really wish I could be there to tell you in person. Seeing you again would be the best Christmas gift ever. But we’ll see each other again soon, right? So for now it will do. 
> 
> Ugh, I should probably wrap Joyce’s present at some point. I’ve been putting that off for days. Eventually she’s gonna just walk in and see it. Guess I’ll do that now. 
> 
> Merry Christmas, Max. 
> 
> Santa’s Long-Lost Elf, 
> 
> Chloe 
> 
> P.S. You ever think about how the moral of Rudolph’s story is that differences will be shunned unless they’re useful? I think about it a lot. 
> 
> P.P.S. If I were a reindeer, I’d be Cupid, then I could ram you and you’d fall in love with me 

Max laughed even as she blushed furiously. Chloe loved crude jokes like that, and would probably love them more if she knew exactly how much they flustered Max. She could hide it well enough in her letters and over the phone, but when they did reunite it was going to be a problem. 

Then again, Chloe had started liking those jokes before they split apart, and they hadn’t had nearly as much effect on Max back then. Odd. 

Putting that thought aside for now – if only to stop her face being so hot - she turned her attention to the present. She had a strong suspicion of what it was now, and was delighted to discover she was right when she tore it open to find several boxes of polaroid film. It wasn’t much – her usual picture rate would burn through it all in less than a week – but with her dwindling supply she cherished it all the more. 

_ Thank you so much, Chloe. Even without spending a dime, you’re so thoughtful... _

If only Max’s gift had been so thoughtful. Her drawing skills were mediocre at best. What if Chloe couldn’t even tell who it was supposed to be? Maybe she should’ve just burned through the rest of her film and made that album after all... 

_ She won’t think less of you for it, _ Max had to reassure herself. _ You’re not a bad friend for trying like you did. She’ll appreciate it. _

Normally her anxiety would spike and smack down such thoughts. Yet, right now... she felt strangely okay with them. Maybe her new medication was finally starting to work. 

Taking heart in that thought, Max slipped Chloe’s letter into a protective sleeve in the binder with its predecessors, then went for her bedroom door. She opened it slowly and crept out into the hall. Her parents’ door was still shut; they always slept in on Christmas. Perfect – that gave her some private time for a call. She bounded down the steps as quietly as she could and went for the phone. 

Dialing the number was muscle memory at this point. Max bounced on the balls of her feet impatiently as it rang. When it finally picked up, it was a matronly southern drawl that answered, “Hello?” 

“Hi, Joyce!” Max said, miffed but glad to speak to Chloe’s mother, who had been like a second mother to Max growing up. “Merry Christmas!” 

“And a merry Christmas to you too, Max,” Joyce said warmly. “Chloe was just talking about calling you. I’ll put her on.” 

“Thank you, Joyce!” 

“Don’t mention it, Max. It’s for my own good, really. I know how Chloe gets if she doesn’t get her Max time.” 

Max didn’t really know what to say to that. How _ did _Chloe get? Knowing it affected her somehow made Max feel... flutters? Yes, that was a good word. Like little butterflies nesting in her belly. 

She was spared having to think of a response. After a brief commotion on the other end of the line, that familiar, lovely voice said her name. “Max?” 

“Merry Christmas, Chloe!” Max practically squealed. 

Chloe laughed. “Merry Christmas to you too, Maximus. You like your present?” 

“Of course! You sure it wasn’t really a present for _ you _though?” 

“Both! You get to take more pictures, and I get more selfies in the mail!” 

“True, true. Did... you like your present?” 

Chloe was silent a moment. When she spoke next, her voice was soft and subdued. “Yeah... I really did. Thank you, Max.” 

“You, um... could tell what it was, right?” 

“Yeah, yeah... My dad. Really, Max, it was great. You don’t give yourself enough credit.” 

Max frowned at Chloe’s somber tone. “Are you okay?” 

“I’ll be fine. Just... Really missing him today, you know?” 

Oh. Duh. Way to read the room, Max. And way to send her something that would make her sad on Christmas! “Yeah, I know... God, I’m sorry, Chlo. I didn’t think-” 

“It was gonna happen today anyway, Maxi. Really, I love the drawing. I hung it up and everything. It’s... good to have something to remember him by. And to know how you remember him too.” 

“He was a great man...” Max said, unsure of how to comfort Chloe. They hadn’t talked much about William. What could you even say to someone who had lost their father so young, especially when the loss had hurt you too? 

“He was...” Chloe sniffled. “There’s so many things I wish I could say to him. So many good memories I wish I could thank him for. I can’t, but there’s still people I _ can _say that to. Today more than any other day, I want to appreciate what I have, because... you never know when you could lose it.” 

“Chloe...” was all Max could manage, a film of tears coating her eyes. 

“Max,” Chloe continued, sounding choked up. “I’ve said it so much in my letters, but I need to say it out loud so I don’t regret it if... if anything... _ happens... _ You’re my best friend, my partner in crime. Thank you so much for all of the memories we share, all of the memories we keep making. Thank you for your patience, your support, helping me find my way again... Thanks for being _ you, _Max. I don’t know where I’d be without you.” 

Max managed a weak chuckle past the lump in her throat and the swarm of butterflies in her stomach. She considered cracking wise about Chloe getting mushy where Joyce could no doubt hear, but decided against it. Her words had been heartfelt. The only proper response was to return them. 

“I’m glad I can be all those things, for you, Chloe,” Max said, tears trickling down her cheeks even as she smiled. “And you’re all those things to me, too. Our memories are so precious to me. You support me through all my dumb bullshit even when you’ve got your own. You’re... you’re the most important person in the world to me, Chloe.” 

Max’s heart lurched as she said the words. Why, though? It wasn’t anything she hadn’t said a thousand times in their letters. But that was just it, wasn’t it? It was a lot easier to express deep emotions like that through written words that wouldn’t be read until days later. Actually saying it out loud, directly to someone was much different. It laid bare all the emotions held in the words. It made them more _ real. _

After a couple of hard sniffles and a chuckle from Chloe, she said softly, “You are to me too, Max. I...” 

A long silence. “...Chlo?” 

“...Sorry, just... God, we’re mushy today, eh?” 

Max chuckled. “It’s the perfect day for it.” 

“I suppose it is. But anyway, now that’s out of the way, plans for the day? Wishes for presents?” 

“Other than opening a large, Chloe-sized box?” 

Chloe laughed. “Much as we both would love that...” 

They talked for a while about their plans for the day, for the new year, and for the gifts they hoped to receive. All the while, that insistent fluttering never faded from Max’s stomach. It was... pleasant in a way, but it filled her with a weird feeling not unlike anxiety. Maybe her medication wasn’t fully working yet after all? No, it couldn’t be that. Talking to _ Chloe _couldn’t make her anxious. Well, except for their first phone call, and that time with the ripped-up comic, and now... 

_ ...what about now? _

Alas, she didn’t get enough time to consider an answer. The telltale sounds of her parents waking echoed down the stairwell, and Max knew it was time to say goodbye. She always found it hard, but something about today made her dread it. She had to force the words out. 

“Well... sounds like my parents are getting up... I’ll have to go...” 

“Okay, Max,” Chloe sounded as down about it as Max felt. “Well, we’ll talk tomorrow about all the stuff we get, alright?” 

“Sounds like a plan to me, captain.” 

“Merry Christmas, Max.” 

“Merry Christmas, Chloe.” 

Max reluctantly hung up, but managed a smile anyway. Throughout the rest of the holiday, she saw and talked to many of the people she cared about, friends and family both. She ate her fill of Christmas meats, pudding, and all manner of sweets and candies. She received a good number of gifts (most of which were photography related, but sadly little extra film) and was grateful for each. 

Through it all, her mind kept straying back to a certain girl in far-off Arcadia Bay, and the friendship they shared. At the end of the day, a bond as special as theirs was the best gift of all.

* * *

**Vanessa: **Merry Christmas, Joyce! 

** Joyce: **Merry Christmas, Vanessa! Good to hear from you! How’s Seattle? 

** Vanessa: **Well enough, I suppose, though I do sometimes miss the small-town life. Knowing everyone had its perks. 

** Joyce: **And its downsides. Can’t do anything without it being all over town come morning. 

** Vanessa: **True, true! So, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about. 

** Joyce: **Let me guess, does it rhyme with Tax and Snowy? Their chat this morning? 

** Vanessa: **Is it that obvious to you too? 

** Joyce: **Depends on what you mean by “it,” but if you mean what I think you mean, then yes, it’s that obvious. Has been for a while, really. 

** Vanessa: **I had my doubts, but not after their call this morning. I feel kind of bad for eavesdropping – Max thought we were still sleeping – but I couldn’t help overhearing. 

** Joyce: **Chloe didn’t even care that David and I were in the living room. This time of year is hard for us since... you know. I was surprised to hear her speak so candidly. 

** Vanessa: **Same thing here. It’s not like Max to express her feelings so openly. 

** Joyce: **Not quite openly. There’s a lot that’s not being said between those two. A lot that they themselves might not even know how to process. 

** Vanessa: **I remember being that age. Such a mess. 

** Joyce: **Quite. So what specifically about it did you want to talk about? 

** Vanessa: **Well, how do you feel about it? 

** Joyce: **Honestly, I’ve always thought it could happen, even when they were kids. And you wouldn’t believe the effect Max has had on Chloe since they started talking again. I was worried she might start getting into trouble – and she did for a while – but she’s getting back on track. She’s healing. And I think it’s all because of Max. You should see the look on her face when she gets one of those letters. 

** Vanessa: **I know what you mean. You’d think letter day was like Christmas morning in our house. Max has been going out more, making friends – our shy little Maxine, going out! She even came to Ryan and I about seeking help for her anxiety. She’s made me so proud these last few months, and I think I have Chloe to thank for that. 

** Joyce: **Sounds like we’re in agreement, then. Those two are good for each other. I think this is something we should encourage. 

** Vanessa: **I agree. Best not to be too direct though. We want them to process things on their own time. 

** Joyce: **Of course. I have a couple ideas on that, if you’ll agree? 

** Vanessa: **What did you have in mind? 

** Joyce: **Money’s still a bit tight around here, but I think it’s high time Chloe got her own cell phone. Both to keep in touch with me, and also so she feels she can have some more private talks with Max. Does Max have one yet? 

** Vanessa: **No, we’ve been putting that off cause her photography hobby gets so pricey. I think it’s time though. We can spin it as a New Year’s gift or something. 

** Joyce: **Chloe’s grades have been climbing again, but I worry she’ll have trouble focusing if she could text Max all day. For that and budget reasons I think I’m going to restrict her plan to calls only to start with. If she proves trustworthy enough to not get in trouble with it I’ll find the money for texting later. 

** Vanessa: **Good plan, I agree. I’ll put the same restrictions on Max. They can feel like they’re earning the right to text together. It can be more bonding for them, haha. 

** Joyce: **Bonding them against us, you mean. 

**Vanessa:** If that’s what it takes. They’ll thank us later. 

** Joyce: **Hopefully! I also wanted to talk to you about Max potentially visiting soon? Chloe’s been going on about it for a while, she’s quite excited by the idea. 

** Vanessa: **Oh, you should have heard Max nagging us about it. We told her she had to save her own money for the trip down, and she actually stopped buying new film because of that. I thought hell would freeze over first. 

** Joyce: **At least you know she’s committed, haha. Chloe originally mentioned her staying some random weekend, but I had another idea. Something to make it really special for both of the girls. 

** Vanessa: **I’m all ears. Max deserves something special for how much she’s improved over this year. They both do. 

** Joyce: **That they do. So, I was thinking... 


	9. Surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THAT'S RIGHT BITCHES, I LIVE AND SO DOES THIS FIC
> 
> Ahem. More details in the end note.

Max was hiding something, and Chloe couldn’t get it out of her mind. 

She paced her room like a caged animal, frowning at the screen of her cell phone. Her call history was displayed there; naturally it was almost all Max. Yet, over the last week or so the call times had grown shorter and shorter, and now today, Chloe had made two calls that hadn’t been answered at all. She debated trying a third time, but eventually slid her phone in her pocket and went to her desk. 

It wasn’t just the calls, either. Max’s latest letter was only a couple paragraphs long. Chloe scanned it again, searching for some kind of hidden meaning. The letters were written with an unsteady hand, but from nervousness, or excitement? There wasn’t any nerve wracking or exciting news in the words themselves, just wishes for a happy spring break, which began today.

_ Ugggh, am I reading too much into this? We don’t need to talk for hours or send several pages ALL the time. I’ve even told her that… so am I just being too clingy? _

She’d been worrying about that recently. As much as talking to Max was helping her, she knew that being codependent wasn’t healthy either. Perhaps a few days with reduced contact every now and then would be good for them, as much as Chloe hated the idea. Maybe Max had realized that first and was trying to scale back a bit. 

Or maybe Max had been slowly trying to prep Chloe for Spring Break week, when Max said she’d be out of Seattle. Maybe she was going on vacation somewhere with her parents and didn’t want to risk losing her phone, so she’d tried to wean them both off of contact for a while.

_ Or maybe she’s finally getting tired of me, _ a dark part of Chloe’s brain suggested. _ Maybe the new friends she’s made are enough that she doesn’t need me anymore… _

She shook her head and cursed herself. No way. She had so much proof of how Max cared. She wouldn’t let herself doubt it, even for a moment. Whatever Max’s reasons, they were good ones, and she’d tell Chloe eventually. 

It’d be hard to avoid speculating with the entire next week off of school though. Frustrating as school was, it kept her mind occupied. What was she going to do with a whole week to herself? TV and video games could only last so long before they got stale. And being listless was more likely to get her into the types of trouble Max was trying so hard to help her avoid.

Chloe fell onto her bed and stared at the ceiling, pondering her options. Steph would be out of town with her parents. Same with Mikey. Eliot was probably free, but something about him deterred her from wanting to be alone with him. No, she’d have to make her own entertainment.

_ Maybe… I could ask mom if there’d be some work for me at Two Whales. A full week’s worth of pay would really help out Max’s trip money… Hmm. Come to think of it, she hasn’t mentioned that for a while. I wonder how much she’s saved up? We’ve gotta be getting close, right? _

Typical of her thoughts to wander back to Max. Seemed like every path in her brain led back to Max these days. And with Max on her mind, she felt… light? She wasn’t sure how to describe it, but it was pleasant, peaceful even. So much better than the dark thoughts that tended to crop up when she thought about her dad, or David, or school. And with Max’s help, even those thoughts weren’t quite as dark as they used to be.

_ God, I miss her… If she were still here, everything would be… well, not perfect. Dad would still be gone. David would still be around. School would still suck. But… things would be better. I think I could deal with everything else if she was here... _

That line of thought was interrupted by the distant ring of a doorbell, followed by her mother’s voice from downstairs. “Chloe! Could you answer that?”

Chloe sat up, irritated. “Why can’t you get it?” she shouted back.

“I’m busy! Please Chloe, I’m not gonna tell you again!”

She groaned loudly but stood up anyway. At one point she might’ve ignored Joyce entirely. As it was, she resigned herself to grumbling all the way down the stairs. What could possibly be taking up so much of Joyce’s time that she couldn’t answer the fucking door? It probably wasn’t even important, just the mail dude or some door to door salesman, maybe even one of those religious nutjobs from that crazy church on the other side of town. She already had a hearty “Fuck off” on her lips as she threw the door open.

Her curses died in her throat as her breath escaped. 

Brown hair. Blue eyes. That smile, that blush. Freckles, those damn adorable freckles. 

“Uh, hey Chloe. Surprise! I—”

_ “MAX!” _Chloe screamed, lunging forward to wrap the girl in the tightest hug she could manage, terrified that she might vanish at any moment.

“Good to see you too,” Max groaned, wrapping Chloe in an equally tight hug of her own. 

“You’re here,” Chloe mumbled, trying not to cry like a sappy idiot. 

“I am,” Max mumbled back, sounding like she was holding back tears of her own. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I wanted to surprise you…” 

“It worked… Best surprise ever.” 

“It was so hard not to tell you, I had to make our calls and letters shorter so I wouldn’t be tempted, I’m so sorry—” 

“Shut up,” Chloe chuckled. “No apologies. You’re here. _ You’re here. _” 

“I am… I’ve missed you.” 

“Same, Maxi, same…” 

_ Max. She’s here. She’s really here. _

She had changed a bit since the last time they’d seen each other. She wore her hair in a short bob rather than her old ponytail, and she’d gained a couple more inches, though Chloe still towered over her. Her sense of style clearly hadn’t improved, though the messenger bag substantially raised her hipster aura. 

Chloe had seen all this through Max’s selfies, but seeing it in person made it so much more real. 

All of Chloe’s cares and worries didn’t seem to matter anymore. Holding Max close to her, she felt more whole, more _ right, _than she had in a long time.

They stood there wrapped up in each other for longer than Chloe cared to count, until someone cleared their throat behind her. “Are you two gonna stand out here all day?”

They quickly - though reluctantly - split apart to face Joyce, who stood in the doorway with a warm smile. “Well if it isn’t Max Caulfield in the flesh! It’s been way too long.”

“It’s great to see you, Joyce!” Max embraced her tightly. “I’ve missed you too.”

Joyce hugged back. “God, you’ve grown too much since I last saw you. Stop that. You two should still be knee high by my count.”

“Has she grown?” Chloe smirked and crossed her arms. “I don’t know, she still looks like a squirt to me.”

Max let go of Joyce to glare and stick her tongue out at Chloe. God that pouting face was cute. “Ignoring you. Anyway, thanks for helping me get this set up, Joyce.”

“Of course, Max. You’re always welcome here, and Chloe’s been so impatient to see you again.”

“Wait…” Chloe narrowed her eyes at them. “Mom, you knew about this?”

“Yes I did. Don’t give me that look, Max was adamant it be a surprise. Besides, Max’s parents needed some reassurances before they’d agree to let her stay for the whole week.”

The human heart was probably not built to change pulse as erratically as Chloe’s just did. “The… The _ whole week?” _

“Yeah, Chlo,” Max said with barely contained excitement in her voice. “The whole week. No school, no homework, just—”

Chloe cut her off by laughing and wrapping her in another tight hug, which Max quickly joined in on. Holy shit. A whole week, _ with Max. _ She had to be dreaming, right? Nothing this good ever happened to her. She didn’t _ deserve _anything this good to happen to her.

“Now Chloe,” Joyce scolded, “are you going to keep trying to crush Max to death, or are you going to carry her things inside?”

“O-Oh, yeah,” Chloe mumbled sheepishly, unable to wipe the massive grin off her face. Chloe noticed for the first time the large duffle bag that sat on the porch and heaved it up.

“Chlo, it’s okay, I can get it—”

“Nope, not a chance, Maximus,” Chloe brushed past Max’s attempts to take the bag and followed Joyce inside. “We here at Chateau De Chloe permit no stress to our guests, especially the cute ones.”

“Oh? Does that mean I get room service?”

“Yes, but the quality of said room service depends on how well you tip.”

Before Max could offer a rebuttal, Joyce rounded on Chloe. “Alright, why don’t you take her things upstairs and tidy your room a bit. It’s in no state for a guest. Max honey, you must be starving, I’ll fix you something to eat.”

Chloe groaned, but suppressed her argument for Max’s sake. “Fiiiine. I get her all week, may as well let you have a few minutes. Back in a flash, Max.” 

With that, Chloe dashed up the stairs with Max’s bag in tow, leaving a bemused Max to follow Joyce into the kitchen. As soon as she opened the door and saw the state of her room, she grudgingly admitted that Joyce had a point.

_ No way I’m letting Max stay in this pigsty… And uh, maybe I got a bit too excessive hanging all her selfies. Maybe we just take a few of those down... _

* * *

Max bounced her leg impatiently at the Price table, waiting both for Joyce to finish preparing her promised food, and for Chloe to return from tidying her room. Her impatience wasn’t nearly enough to drown out her delight at being in this house again. It hadn’t changed all that much, aside from some of the furniture being rearranged. The old couch/pirate ship was still there across from a newer TV, next to the old carpet stain from their wine tasting session. The playset was still out back, and the same sorts of groceries sat on the counter. 

Of course, there was one major change that couldn’t be ignored: William’s absence. His personal effects were missing from the shelves, and there were no pictures of him that Max could see. That _ did _dampen Max’s spirits quite a bit. The last time she’d been here, they’d just gotten the news…

_ No. NO. I’m not thinking about that this week. I’m going to enjoy my time with Chloe. _

A _ whole week _with Chloe. Max had been surprised and ecstatic when her mother suggested it. She’d had the money for the visit a while ago, but Spring Break week was too good to pass up. She’d been unable to think about anything else for weeks. So many times she’d come close to cracking and telling Chloe, but Chloe’s surprised and joyous reaction had been worth the wait. 

_ That was so cute how excited she got... I’ve missed that. Letters and selfies are great and all, but they can’t quite capture her energy, her passion. _

That same passion and excitement had brought an indescribable warmth to Max’s heart. It was the feeling she got from every letter, every call, every gift they exchanged, only magnified a hundredfold. The feeling of being cherished, valued, _ wanted. _Chloe gave her that in a way her parents or her other friends never could.

_ Cool as Seattle is, cool as Kristen and Fernando and everyone else is… I’d move back here in a heartbeat. I could deal with everything so much easier with Chloe… I need to keep working on my portfolio so I can apply to Blackwell. Oh man, if we both got accepted and I surprised Chloe on the first day, imagine her reaction! _

“Alright!” Joyce said as she approached with a plate of food. “My famous belgian waffles, just the way you used to love them.”

Max beamed as she took the plate. “I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks. Thank you so much, Joyce.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Max. Vanessa told me you didn’t eat before you caught the bus this morning.”

“Yeah, I was, uh, kinda too excited to leave…”

“Well, no skipping meals while you’re here, young lady. Lose any weight and you might vanish.”

“As if I’d want to skip anything you cook!” Max said as she cut off her first delicious bite of fluffy waffle. “Expect me to drag Chloe to lunch at Two Whales every day.”

“That’d be good. Lets me know you two aren’t getting into trouble while I’m at work.”

“Are you worried about that?” Max asked only half jokingly. Joyce considered it for a moment. 

“Well, barring any wine tasting sessions…” she paused to allow Max a laugh. She glanced toward the stairs and lowered her voice before continuing. “I might’ve worried a few months ago. Chloe’s attitude was concerning, and she still has her moments. But you’ve really helped her steer back on track, Max. I can’t begin to tell you how thankful I am for that. And when she saw you outside… I haven’t seen her that happy in a long time. With you here, I don’t think I have anything to worry about.”

Ahhh. Now Max was smiling like an idiot. She’d come for Chloe, but she’d forgotten just how much she’d missed Joyce as well. She always knew just what to say to make Max feel special. She’d never said so out loud, but Max considered Joyce to be like a second mother growing up, and was delighted to find that hadn’t changed since she’d left.

“I’m glad I can help her so much… She’s really helped me, too. I don’t know where I’d be without her.”

“You two really are something special. Cherish every moment, you hear? Bonds like that are once in a lifetime.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. She’s—”

“Hey, you two talking shit about me?” Chloe’s voice called as she rushed down the stairs, a big smile on her face as she saw Max. Max couldn’t help smiling back.

“Language,” Joyce scolded.

Max rolled her eyes. “Yes, Chloe, that’s why I came all the way back to Arcadia Bay for a whole week, to craptalk you with your mother.”

“Hey, I’d visit you for dumber reasons if I could!” Chloe joined Max at the table, where she had the audacity to pluck a piece of syrupy waffle from Max’s plate with her fingers. “So, mom, is David gonna be around this week?”

Joyce frowned and crossed her arms. “I’m glad that you’ve been tolerating him more recently, but you could at least _ pretend _not to hate the idea of Max meeting him.”

“Look, I just—” Chloe glanced at Max, took a deep breath, then continued. “He can be abrasive to new people. I just want Max to enjoy her time here without stress.”

Joyce didn’t uncross her arms, but her expression did soften. “Well, you’ll be glad to hear that he’s down in California visiting his parents for the week— Could you at least _ pretend _not to be excited about that?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Chloe tried to keep herself from beaming and bouncing in her seat. Max was better at hiding her relief. If what Chloe said about him was true, meeting David was a stress she really didn’t want right now. 

Chloe cleared her throat and looked back at Max. “So. A whole week… Well, uh, sorry to disappoint, but you kinda took me by surprise, so I don’t have _ anything _fun planned for this week. Or did you plan all of that behind my back with mom too?”

“Nope, nothing planned… I just figured we’d wing it, like we always used to, you know?”

“Sure you won’t get bored? Arcadia’s pretty quiet compared to Seattle…”

“We could spend all week just laying around in your room and that would be perfect. Really, Chlo, don’t worry about it. We’ll figure it out, we always do.”

That answer seemed to satisfy Chloe. “God. Mmm. Sorry, I’m still… I can’t believe you’re actually _ here. _ I was just thinking I needed to ask you about your visit fund earlier, and now you’re here! This must mean… _ I can reshape reality with my mind.” _

Max burst out laughing at Chloe’s shocked expression as she said it. “Clearly that’s not true, or you’d have an infinite stack of bacon sitting in front of you.”

Chloe frowned hard at the table in front of her for a second. “Mmm… Clearly I haven’t learned to control my power yet.”

“Baby steps there, Super Chloe. Careful not to tear a hole in the fabric of reality.”

“This requires further testing, but for that I’ll need the help of my trusty sidekick!” Chloe jumped to her feet and struck a heroic pose, pointing to the stairwell. “Come, Super Max! Let us return to the Chloe Cave and test the limits of my abilities!”

Max jumped to her feet and planted her hands on her waist while puffing her chest out. “Lead the way, Super Chloe! We’ll learn how best to use your newfound power for good!”

“Uh, yeah, for good, let’s go with that.”

Both giggling like excited children, they took off for the stairs, scrambling to beat each other to Chloe’s room. And for the first time since the move, Max felt truly carefree.

* * *

Joyce watched the girls laugh and push each other out of the way as they raced up the stairs with a smile on her face. When had she last seen Chloe so bright and full of life? Max had always been a positive influence for her, but this was something else entirely. Whatever doubts she’d had about their bond didn’t hold much water anymore. 

Unconsciously, one of her hands dropped to her left pocket, where a small locket lay hidden. She’d put away everything else; all the pictures, tools, gifts, everything — except this. Never this. For though she didn’t like to be reminded of him, she also wasn’t ready to forget him, no matter what Chloe thought.

“She’ll be okay, William,” Joyce whispered so softly she could barely hear her own voice. “Our little girl will be okay. Max will take care of her.”

Wiping a tear from her eye, she turned to the dinner table to clean up what remained of Max’s food. More than half of her waffles remained, untouched. Joyce doubted they were lacking in taste, nor Max lacking in appetite. 

_ So impatient for Chloe time… I admit it, William, you were probably right about the two of them… And I just know you’d rub that in my face, you handsome bastard. _

It occurred to Joyce that maybe letting them sleep in the same room wasn’t a wise idea. She quickly discarded that thought. If she knew the two of them as well as she thought she did, neither of them were even ready to admit anything to themselves, much less each other. They _ definitely _weren’t about to start getting physical.

_ The more pressing issue is which one of them cracks and says something first. Chloe seems the obvious choice, but with how much more confident Max gets around her… Hmm. Maybe I ought to make a bet with Vanessa... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I kinda went and died for like 2 months there. Sorry about that. Life hits you hard sometimes. More specifically, depression hits you hard. 
> 
> This chapter was originally going to encompass the whole of Max's visit, but I split this part off so I could post something and reassure you guys the fic is still alive. I don't think I'll be doing my old posting schedule anymore (very very sorry for that, I know the consistency was great for a lot of you) but I don't believe I can keep a consistent pace with how life is going at the moment. I'll be putting up each chapter when it's ready, no sooner and no later. Sometimes that might be a while. Thanks to each and every one of you for your patience, it means the world to me.
> 
> For the record: William totally would have bet on Max.


	10. Realize

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter beta read by the wonderful [Platon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Platon/pseuds/Platon).

**Sunday**

Chloe’s perfect week began with Max by her side.

She groaned as she woke, stubbornly refusing to open her eyes. Stupid sun, thinking it could tell her when to wake up. She curled up and tugged the covers over her head. Morning wouldn’t find her under there.

As she tugged, the covers resisted. Chloe rolled over with a growl, cracking her eyes to look for what they’d caught on. 

An instant later, her fatigue was forgotten.

Max lied beside Chloe, clutching the blankets with one hand. She was curled into a ball, hugging her legs with her other hand. With her fuzzy pink pajamas, she looked cozy. Her hair was frizzy, splayed out across her pillow and over her eyes. Her mouth hung slightly open, and every few seconds she gave a soft snore.

So that hadn’t been a dream after all. Max was really here.

_ And I get a whole week with her…  _

Chloe couldn’t help smiling. She hadn’t seen bedhead-Max for a long time, and it was even cuter than she remembered. Then again, Max in general was cuter than she remembered. Had she always had so many freckles? Did Chloe’s shorter hair look as good on her as it did for Max? 

_ It doesn’t seem like it because of all the selfies, but… we really have changed a lot since we last saw each other. _

She’d always thought of Max as cute, even back when they first met as kindergarteners. She’d told Max so more times than she could count. But now, with Max’s face inches away, unkempt as it was… Chloe suddenly realized just how pretty Max had become.

Why did that thought give her flutters, send shivers down her back? Of course Max would grow up to be pretty, and how could Chloe not notice? It was only natural she should think of her best friend as pretty, right?

Taken by an urge too potent to ignore, Chloe reached out to gently brush the hair away from Max’s face. So calm, so peaceful. She’d waited so long to see that face again. She’d be content to just lay here and stare at it for the rest of the day.

And she did for a long while, until Max stirred and groaned at the brightening light outside. She was more of a morning person than Chloe, but not by much. It took a minute or two for her eyes to finally flutter open, and another for them to actually focus and register Chloe. When she did, one of those adorable smiles crossed her lips. 

“Morning,” she croaked.

“Morning, Maxitron,” Chloe said softly. “Sleep okay?”

“Mhmm,” Max nodded. “Not sure I’ve stopped yet, though. This seems like a dream.”

“Pff, you wish you had dreams as good as me, Caulfield.”

Max chuckled. “You been awake long? You could’ve woke me up.”

“And let you fix your hair? Please, I need to enjoy this disaster as long as I can.”

Max squinted at Chloe, then snorted. “You’re one to talk. I always knew you’d turn mad scientist one day.”

“And what does that make you? A mad photographer?”

“Is that a thing? That should be a thing.”

“We’ll  _ make  _ it a thing just for you, Doctor Maxenstein.”

They laughed together, long but softly. Chloe felt like she could jump right out of bed and dance with joy. They’d laughed about dumb shit together over the phone, but it just couldn’t compare. Was it even possible to feel this… happy?

_ Not for long it isn’t. This is only temporary. She’ll leave again soon… _

No. Don’t think about that yet. Focus on the here and now. Make the most of the time while it’s here.

With that in mind, Chloe stretched out and pushed herself into a sitting position. “So, how shall we spend this fine day, dear doctor?”

“Hmm,” Max hummed as she sat up alongside Chloe. “How indeed? Did you have anything in mind, Doctor Chloe?”

“Well, anything you’ve been dying to do in the great city of Arcadia Bay that Seattle couldn’t give you?”

“Yeah, breakfast at Two Whales! I’ve missed Joyce’s bacon omelettes so much!”

Chloe’s stomach picked that moment to rumble loudly. “Obviously I agree. Proves to mom that we actually got out of bed, too.”

“Yes, cause I’m sure Joyce is worried that we plan to lay in bed and do nothing all day.”

“Never said we’d be doing nothing…” Chloe gave Max a toothy smirk and waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Max grabbed her pillow and smacked Chloe with it. “God, you’re hopeless.”

“Only with you, Maxi. So, what do you say we get presentable and go bug mom until she feeds us?”

Max, still furiously blushing, set her pillow down and avoided looking at Chloe. Oh yes, flustered Max was just as adorable as she’d always been. You definitely couldn’t replicate  _ that _ through letters. “Y-yeah. And after that, maybe… well, I was thinking something low key for our first day. Maybe load up on snacks while we’re out, then come back and here and watch some movies, play some games? Like we used to?”

Chloe smiled and wrapped her arm around Max’s shoulders, pulling her close. She’d be doing that a lot this week. She had to savor Max’s touch as much as she possibly could. “Sounds perfect. We can either start off with our seven hundredth viewing of Bladerunner, or I can whoop your ass in Mario Kart for the seven thousandth time!”

“As if! I’ve been practicing, and this time you’re going down, Price!”

“Oh am I? Care to make it a bet?”

“You have my attention… What do we play for?”

“Whoever wins… Gets a free dare for the other person this week. Whatever it is, the other person  _ has  _ to do it.”

Max narrowed her eyes. “Mmm… fine, but nothing crazy or illegal, okay?”

“Deal.” They shook on it. “Now since you’re the guest, I’ll let you shower first. I need some alone time to ponder what I’ll dare you to do…”

Max pulled out of Chloe’s grip and stood, harumphing as she gathered clothes and toiletries from her bag. “Maybe you should ponder how you’ll handle it when you lose. Maybe I’ll dare you to show Joyce some of those sketches you’re always sending me.”

Chloe went rigid. “You wouldn’t…”

“You’ll have to find out, won’t you?” Max gave a sly smile and a wink as she closed the door behind her.

It took Chloe a minute to recollect herself. Shit. She hadn’t played Mario Kart in so long, and if Max really had been practicing… Once again, her mouth was running ahead of her and getting her into trouble.

_ Gotta remember that, Chloe. No matter how innocent and adorable she may seem… Maxine Caulfield does have an evil side. _

_ And it might just be the cutest thing about her…  _

* * *

**Monday**

“I still say you got lucky.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Hey, if I hadn’t got hit by that blue shell at the end—”

“That’s how the game works! If you wanted fair, you should’ve suggested Smash Bros. Lucky for you, I’ll need some time to ponder how to use my dare.”

Chloe crossed her arms and looked away, grumbling to herself. Over the sound of midmorning traffic, Max could only catch, “...lucky you’re cute…” Max felt her cheeks heat up, but she smiled to herself.

The two were walking down the sidewalk along Arcadia Bay’s main thoroughfare. Max was drinking in the sights of the town she’d grown up in with nostalgic fervor. It hadn’t changed at all from her many memories, and yet it seemed surreal and detached from reality, like it was part of another life entirely. It disturbed her more than she let on.

_ I don’t want this place to feel like just a relic of the past to me… Not while Chloe is still here.  _

But then again, Chloe often talked about how much she wanted to leave Arcadia. She never said anything about where she’d rather go, but Max hoped that wherever it was, she’d take Max with her. Once they were both old enough to be done with school, unbound from parents and their shitty decisions to uproot their daughter’s entire life at a moment’s notice…

_ Whoa. Where did that come from?  _ It wasn’t uncommon for Max to feel bitter about the move, but she’d never directed it at her parents that harshly.

_ Maybe I’m just realizing how much I missed this place… How much I missed Chloe. Odd as this is, I feel more normal than I have in a long time. Seattle is gonna be even more painful after this, isn’t it? _

Nope, not thinking about that yet. Still got plenty of week left to enjoy.

“What’s up, Mad Max?”

“Huh?” Max snapped out of her musings to look at Chloe, who seemed to have stopped sulking about Mario Kart.

“You’ve got your  _ deep thinking  _ face on.”

“I have a deep thinking face?”

“Yeah, it looks like this.” Chloe scrunched her eyebrows together and tightened her lips.

“That just looks like you need to take a dump. Should we find a bathroom? Or maybe a nice bush?”

“Eat me,” Chloe retorted, though she was smirking. “So, what’s on your mind?”

Max sighed. “Just… thinking about how weird it is to be back here. How much I really don’t want to leave again.”

Chloe snorted. “That makes one of us. I’d love to be out of this dump. Maybe we can trade places. If I slouch, dye my hair and talk like a hipster, do you think we could pull off the Parent Trap maneuver?”

“Funny as it would be to see you try to dress or act like me… That wouldn’t really fix the issue.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“Well…” Max paused. Why was her pulse quickening? Ignoring it as best she could, she continued, “I want to stay here cause  _ you’re  _ here, Chloe. If you leave, that kinda defeats the purpose, you know?”

Chloe blinked at her in surprise. “Oh… Well, uh… Hmm. If you were staying here, I guess I could be convinced to stay too… You know, probably...”

Oh? Chloe would  _ choose  _ to stay in Arcadia for Max? A wide, idiotic smile crossed her face. Chloe was an expert at offhandedly saying the most touching things.

“Fuck that, Chlo. As soon as we can, when we’re both done with school, let’s ditch this place. Together.”

The hopeful look Chloe gave her was heart melting. “You’d do that? You’d leave with me?”

“Of course I would. We’ve already got our road trip planned, remember?” 

Chloe’s bright smile was warmer than the morning sun could ever be. “How could I forget? We’re hitting like every tourist trap west of the Mississippi. I have a budget in mind for all the shitty knick-knacks I’m gonna buy.”

“Oh? How much do you plan to spend?”

“Yes.”

Max rolled her eyes. “I see I still have to be your impulse control.”

“Yep! Don’t ever let me out of your sight, Caulfield, or I’ll get into all sorts of trouble.”

_ As if I’d ever want to take my eyes off you.  _ The thought caught her by surprise, but she managed to avoid saying it. “Maybe I ought to start keeping you on a leash.”

“Oooooh lah lah, are you into that, Max?” Chloe did that infuriating smirk and eyebrow waggle that Max would never admit she found enticing.

“Sh-Shut up!” Max smacked her on the arm and looked away, blushing furiously. Why did she always have to twist Max’s words like that? Why… why did it seem to fluster Max so much more than it once had?

Chloe laughed and threw her arm around Max’s shoulder, pulling her close into a half hug. “You’re so easy to work up. I’ve missed this way too much.”

Max tried to pout and pull away, but Chloe’s warmth was too welcoming. She sighed and put her arm around Chloe, nestling her face into Chloe’s shoulder. “Yeah, me too,” she mumbled.

Chloe stopped them walking so she could wrap Max in a full hug. Max hummed in contentment, breathing in the smell of Chloe’s shampoo. They’d hugged so many times since Max arrived, but it didn’t seem to be enough. Part of her was afraid that every moment she wasn’t holding Chloe was a moment she could disappear.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Max,” Chloe whispered.

“No place I’d rather be,” Max whispered back.

They pulled back just enough to smile at each other. Chloe’s eyes were watering, and Max wasn’t doing much better. This wasn’t the first time it’d happened this week, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. When you’d been apart from someone so important for so long, and only had so much time together, emotions tended to run high. 

As entrancing as Chloe’s eyes were, Max’s gaze wandered down to her lips. They looked so soft and inviting. How would it feel if she were to just lean in and…

Chloe squeezed Max one more time and let go, pulling her back into the half hug so they could keep walking. “We oughta stop by the gas station and grab some chips, I’ve got the munchies.”

Max stumbled along with her in a haze. Had she really just considered… No, it was just a dumb passing urge. It didn’t actually mean anything.

Right?

* * *

**Tuesday**

Chloe had argued with Max before. Even when you were best friends for life with someone, sometimes disagreements just happened, and things were said that one or both sides regretted. They’d always been quick to make up, usually with tears and many, many apologies. 

Some of the bullshit Max was saying now, though? Chloe wasn’t sure she could ever forgive it.

“Look, Chloe,” Max said through grit teeth, her arms crossed as she paced. “You know I respect your opinions, but there comes a point where you’re just factually  _ wrong—” _

“Yeah, and we haven’t reached that point yet, hippie,” Chloe fired back with a glare. “Who’s the science nut here?”

“What you’re suggesting is  _ not  _ scientific—”

“According to who, you? There’s plenty of empirical evidence to back me up—”

“If you really fucking stretch it, sure, but this is just ridiculous!”

“Not any more than half the bullshit you’ve come up with!”

“Oh,  _ I’ve  _ come up with some bullshit?”

“Enough to take it all and shove it up your—”

A sudden knock on the door interrupted them. Joyce’s head poked in a moment later, looking concerned. 

“Oh, uh, hey mom,” Chloe said. “I didn’t realize you were home.”

“I just stopped in to grab something during my lunch break… Um, everything okay, girls?”

She was treated to an interesting sight. They had the old corkboard they used to draw on leaning against Chloe’s closet door, covered in pinned index cards. Max was pacing in front of it holding another card, while Chloe sat on her desk chair facing Max. A few clothing items were scattered around the floor between them; they’d thrown them at each other when things got really heated.

“No, your daughter is being an irrational—”

“Actually, mom, things are going great now that you’re here,” Chloe swiveled on her chair to face Joyce. “Help us settle an argument.”

Joyce edged into the room, eyes narrowed at Chloe. “Alright… what about?”

Chloe glanced at Max, who was pointedly avoiding her gaze. “Tell us, do you think a Pop-Tart is a sandwich?”

Joyce blinked a few times like she wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly. “...err, what?”

“It absolutely is  _ not!”  _ Max exclaimed. “It’s a type of  _ pastry—” _

“It’s more of a sandwich than an  _ ‘open-faced sandwich’  _ is!”

“It has  _ sandwich  _ in the name!”

“The toppings aren’t fully contained by the containing food, that breaks the structure rule we agreed on—”

Joyce looked back and forth between them with a puzzled expression as they kept up the argument, getting steadily louder and more animated. She peered around Max for a closer look at the board. The index cards had the names of various foods written on them, split into two columns labeled “Sandwich” and “Not Sandwich”. Chloe didn’t agree with some of the placements, as it turned out she and Max had very different definitions of the word.

During a brief pause in their tirades, Joyce said, “Is… this what you’ve been doing all morning?”

“Basically, yeah,” Chloe said. “Max said she didn’t consider hot dogs to be sandwiches, and I couldn’t let such blasphemy stand, and it just kinda spiralled from there. ANYWAY, mom. Pop-Tarts. Sandwich or no?”

Joyce snorted and shook her head. “Oh no, I’m not getting involved. I just came up to tell you that I brought brunch home for you.”

Chloe bolted to her feet, and Max tossed the Pop-Tart card to the floor. They rushed over to Joyce with eager grins. “What’d you bring us?” 

“Is it waffles and omelettes from Two Whales?”

Joyce chuckled at their antics. “Yep, plenty of bacon too. And you have to share it with Max, Chloe.”

Chloe gave an exaggerated sigh. “Ugh,  _ fine.” _

“I don’t know,” Max said, crossing her arms. “I’m not sure I want to share bacon with someone who thinks her omelette is a sandwich.”

“We never even discussed—”

“But it was implied when you argued for a quesadilla—”

“How is that even kind of the same as—”

“Girls! Please!” Joyce got between them. “Don’t fight over something as stupid as this!”

They looked at her, then at each other. After a long moment, they both started laughing.

Joyce blinked in surprise. “Uh… good. Glad that’s sorted. Well, food’s downstairs.”

She left them mumbling something about teenagers. Chloe and Max continued to laugh together. Every time they started to calm down, they’d look at the board or at each other and fall into hysterics again. In time they had arms over each other shoulders, keeping each other from falling to the floor with mirth.

Chloe laughed for Joyce’s reactions, but also the absurdity of the situation. Only with Max could she have these kinds of stupid discussions and play it all completely straight. Only with Max could she have completely realistic and fiery arguments with the understanding that it was all in good fun. Only with Max could she blow an entire morning on something so asinine and not consider a single moment of it a waste.

It meant the world to her that Max felt the same.

“Okay,” Max finally managed between chuckles. “Truce until after lunch?”

“Truce. But then we’re coming back up here, and I’m gonna show you the scientific proof that a Pop-Tart is a sandwich.”

Max rolled her eyes, pulling Chloe with her toward the door. “You wish. I let you win the last card, but you’re definitely losing this one.”

Despite their alleged truce, they kept arguing down the stairs. This time they wore nothing but smiles. As they served up their brunch, Chloe got the sense that she would end up needing to concede this one.

She normally hated losing. But when it was to Max, she found she didn’t mind.

* * *

**Wednesday**

“Pssst, Max.”

Max didn’t look up from the comic panel she was sketching.

“Maaaaaaaax.”

Max pointedly continued to outline the speech bubble for this panel, trying to come up with a snappy line of dialogue to go inside it. The heroines had just encountered the main villain in person for the first time, and he’d made a grand and threatening speech. She needed something short but witty, something to steal his thunder and show that they weren’t afraid of—

“Maxine.”

_ “Never  _ Maxine!” she snapped without thinking, looking up at Chloe’s smug smile.

“Got your attention, didn’t it?” 

They were seated on the floor of Chloe’s room, which was covered in both the remnants of their lunch and the haphazard pages of the comic they’d been working on all day. Despite Chloe being the better artist, Max was doing the sketches for each page while Chloe did the coloring and shading. Though Max was close to finished with the next page, Chloe had only managed to finish one panel of the previous one. Probably because she kept getting distracted by trying to distract Max.

Max scowled at her, then looked back down at her page. “Did you need something?”

“Yeah, I need  _ details. _ You promised me some!”

“I did no such thing. In fact, I specifically remember telling you  _ many  _ times that there are no details to share!”

“Yeah, but that was then, and this is now.”

“What does that even—”

“Come oooooon, Max,” Chloe put on her best whiny voice. “There can’t possibly be  _ no one  _ cute in Seattle.”

Max sighed, tapping her pencil against the floor. “I never said there wasn’t. Didn’t I tell you in one of my letters that Fernando was a little cute?”

“Well, yeah, but you’ve also said a bunch that there’s no chemistry there. I wanna hear about  _ heartthrobs!” _

Max rolled her eyes. “I’ve also said a bunch that there’s nothing on that front, at all, whatsoever.”

Chloe scoffed. “Oh come on, Max. You could have your pick out of all the guys in your school.  _ None  _ of them caught your eye?”

“I really couldn’t… There’s… There’s a lot of girls way prettier than me. Guys don’t notice me.”

Chloe’s expression softened. “You’re too hard on yourself.”

“I mean it, Chloe. Other than Fernando, they don’t really—”

“Forget the guys, Max. I meant…” Chloe paused, seeming… nervous? “You’re… You’re really pretty, Max. I know you don’t think so, but it’s true. Anyone that can’t see that doesn’t deserve you.”

Max blinked at her, mouth hanging slightly open. Chloe thought she was… pretty? She called Max cute a lot, but never  _ pretty.  _ Max blushed and looked back down at the comic, unable to stop herself from smiling like an idiot. “...Thanks, Chlo. I… I think you’re pretty, too.”

“Sh-Shut up,” Chloe muttered. “You don’t have to return every compliment—”

“I mean it, Chloe. You could have all of Arcadia wrapped around your finger if you wanted.”

“Yeah, well… So, anyway, the comic—”

Max smirked at her. “Oh no, it’s your turn now. Who in the Bay, if anyone, is worthy of the eye of Captain Bluebeard herself?”

“Hmph, none of them, obviously.”

She tried to say it in an aloof, exaggerated tone, but Max caught a grain of truth in there too. “Really?”

“Nope. I…” Chloe’s voice dropped, and she looked down at the floor. “I considered just… hooking up with some random guys, after… you know. Just to feel something… and partly to get at my mom. Luckily we started talking again before that… It scares me to think about where I’d be if we hadn’t.”

Max had to bite back an apology for the months following William’s death. She’d already apologized more times than she could count, and Chloe had made it clear she wouldn’t accept it anymore. Though it defied all reason, Chloe really seemed to have forgiven her. That didn’t stop Max from feeling guilty about it.

She also had to restrain the sudden flare of emotion she felt at the idea of Chloe hooking up with random dudes. It constricted her heart and made breathing difficult. But that was a natural reaction, right? She just wanted the best for her friend. It’d be better for her to give herself to a guy who really cared about her… but then why did that thought not seem any better?

“So… you’ve never…?”

“Nope. Never even been kissed.”

Max chuckled nervously, trying not to seem relieved. “Well, we’re in the same boat at least.”

“Heh, I guess so… maybe it’s cause we’re both nerds.”

“Probably… Oh well, fuck them, right? Nerd girls are hot and so are we!”

Chloe laughed and high-fived Max. “Damn right!”

They resumed their drawing in comfortable silence. Or, at least, it seemed to be comfortable for Chloe. For Max it was loaded with thoughts about their conversation. It made perfect sense for someone like Max to not have that experience, but Chloe? She’d always been the braver of them, never afraid to say what she wanted and go for it. So if she’d never done it… did she just not want to? Was there really no one in Arcadia that appealed to her?

_ Does that thought make me… happy? Why? Am I… _

No. No way. Just friendly concern. Chloe deserved someone world class, not the sort of person she’d find in the town she despised so much. 

But then, she did keep daydreaming about…

Not for the first time that week, she found herself staring at Chloe’s face. When  _ had  _ she gotten so… beautiful? The shorter hair really did suit her. And that defiant fire in her eyes, always burning, always ready to stand up for Max… 

Before she could register it, her mouth was moving of its own accord.

“Kiss me.”

Chloe looked up at her, blinking with confusion. “W-What?”

“We’ve both never kissed before, right?” Max said with far more confidence than she felt. “Well, let’s fix that right now.”

Chloe’s face turned as red as Max’s no doubt was. “I-I mean— A-Are you sure—”

Before her doubt could seize control and pull her back, Max leaned closer to Chloe. “I dare you. Kiss me now.”

For a long, horrible moment, Max was afraid Chloe would pull away, call her disgusting, ask her to leave. What had gotten into her, asking for such a thing? She should apologize. She opened her mouth to do so.

Instead, Chloe took Max’s face in her hands and brought their lips together.

It was awkward. Sloppy. Their noses kept bumping into each other. Their teeth clacked together. All in all, it was nothing like what Max had come to expect from movies and books.

She hardly cared. Chloe’s lips were every bit as soft as she’d imagined they’d be. Her mind felt filled with TV static, unable to process anything but the giddy feeling rising in her chest. When Chloe pulled away, far too soon, Max repressed a whine. 

Chloe seemed dazed and breathless. “Well… that was… something.”

“Yeah,” Max breathed, feeling a bit out of it herself. “Yeah it was.”

Chloe chuckled and scratched her head. “If I’d known you’d do  _ that  _ with your dare, I might not have tried so hard to win.”

“What would you have done with it?” Max asked somewhat lamely.

“Honestly? I’d… probably have dared you to kiss me, too.”

“Oh… I guess it all worked out, then.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

They sat there staring at each other for a long minute. Max’s heart was still thundering in her chest. God, this was so awkward now… and yet, she couldn’t regret doing it. In fact, she was already starting to daydream about what another one might feel like.

And Chloe said she’d have done the same thing… Did she really mean it? Had she liked it too?

“Anyway,” Chloe finally broke the silence by picking up her pencils and rearranging her comic pages. “I’d better try to catch up to you, or you’ll be hogging all the snacks while I finish the last few pages!”

“Uh, yeah,” Max mumbled, getting her own pages in order. “You’d better be quick about it, or all the Cheetos are mine!”

They went back to work in a not-quite-comfortable silence. Max’s lines became rougher than normal, distracted as she was. She’d thought one kiss would be enough to satisfy the curiosity she’d been feeling through the week. Yet all it seemed to have done was increased her yearning. She’d have to get a better handle on that, lest she ruin what time they had left. 

Best friends did a lot of things together, and she and Chloe were closer than most, but kissing? That crossed a line. She shouldn’t be wanting to kiss her best friend, no matter how kind and pretty and wonderful she was.

...Right?

* * *

**Thursday**

Chloe couldn’t have predicted her late-afternoon meltdown.

It’d been a great day up until that point. She and Max had spent the morning being awkward on account of their kiss the previous day (which Chloe wouldn’t admit she’d been thinking about constantly), but by lunch they were back to their usual antics and laughter. Their bond was too strong to be weakened by something as stupid as a kiss. No matter how nice, sweet, soft, and intoxicating said kiss had been.

They’d begun indulging in one of their old favorite pastimes, constructing a fort around the living room couch and christening it as their pirate ship. The appeal hadn’t left as they got older; if anything their teenage ingenuity just let them make a more elaborate fort. With cardboard boxes and some markers, they’d drawn portholes, cannons, masts and flags all along the hull of the “ship.” 

Maybe she’d have been embarrassed to do such things around anyone else. With Max, everything was as easy as breathing. It was like they’d never grown up at all.

“Shiver me timbers, she be almost ready to sail, First Mate Silver!” Chloe said with her best exaggerated pirate voice, readjusting her old and flimsy captain’s hat.

“Aye, soon she be plundering the Seven Seas!” Max responded in kind, looking adorable in a weathered eye patch. “She just be needing a banner on the main mast, Captain!”

“I be prepping her last flag now, matey! Ye must fetch our provisions, so we can cast off!”

“Aye aye, Captain!” Max gave a sloppy salute, then rushed off to the kitchen to fetch the snacks. Their  _ cast off  _ would entail watching some of their favorite pirate movies, starting with  _ Curse of the Black Pearl.  _

Grinning like an idiot, Chloe finished up the final details of their ship’s jolly roger flag. As she turned to place it on the main mast (a wrapping paper tube that had been wedged between the back cushions) her eyes caught on the faded but still clearly visible carpet stain next to the couch.

She smiled at it fondly, chuckling to herself at the memory. She and Max had thought they were being  _ so  _ sneaky, getting a taste of her parents’ wine. They’d been a bit too excited though. Hours of panicked scrubbing hadn’t been enough to get rid of the evidence. Joyce had rarely shouted so much at either of them, but even worse had been the silent disapproval from… her dad… 

His face. His smile. His lame jokes. His soft words of encouragement. His warm hugs. Even his disapproval.

Gone.

Just like that, Chloe fell to pieces.

All the grief came rushing back in a torrent so fast it forced her to her knees. It felt like her heart was trying to tear itself apart. She tried to choke back the first few sobs, but couldn’t hold the tide. It was all she could do not to curl up the floor and wail like an infant.

Max came rushing back into the living room, skidding to her knees in front of Chloe. “Chloe! What happened? What’s wrong?”

Great. Just great. They’d been having such a good time. It wasn’t enough for Chloe to ruin a fantastic day, she just had to ruin it for Max, too. And why? For something she thought she’d gotten over already? For something so long past she  _ should  _ be over it by now? Max had come for a good time, not for…  _ this.  _ Some friend she was.

“Chlo, talk to me, please.” Max gently put her hands on Chloe’s shoulders. “What is it?”

It took Chloe a minute to get her sobs under enough control to manage a weak response. “D… Dad…”

She closed her eyes tightly and looked away, letting the sobs come back. There. Now Max should call her a baby, tell her to grow up and get over it. Maybe she needed that. 

“Oh, Chloe…” Max pulled Chloe close, wrapping her arms around her in a tight hug. Chloe’s breath hitched.

“I-I should be over this,” Chloe choked into Max’s shoulder. “I’m so  _ pathetic—” _

“No,” Max said firmly, squeezing Chloe tight. “You’re  _ human.  _ You’re allowed to hurt. You’re  _ allowed  _ to cry. Grief like this doesn’t have a time limit.”

“I’m s-sorry,” Chloe sniffed between gasps. “We w-were having such a good time—”

“Don’t be sorry,” Max said softly, rubbing Chloe’s back with one hand. “I’d rather help you through this than let you suffer alone. No fun is worth that.”

Max. Sweet, kind, gentle Max. Of course she wouldn’t push Chloe away, or downplay her feelings. Chloe felt awful for even having thought such things. Chloe threw her arms around Max and pulled her even closer as a fresh wave of sobs wracked her trembling body.

“I miss him so much,” Chloe cried, burying her face in the comforting mess of Max’s hair.

“I do too,” Max said, sounding like she was on the edge of tears herself. “It’s not the same here without him.”

“Why did he have to leave? Why couldn’t he have just stayed home?  _ Why? He was good! He didn’t deserve—”  _ Her voice broke on the next word. Max trembled against her with sobs of her own. Great, now she’d made Max cry, too.

“I don’t know, Chlo,” Max choked, squeezing Chloe again. “It’s not fair. None of it’s fair…”

They held each other as they cried there, kneeling beside the pirate ship couch, for several minutes more. In spite of Max’s warm embrace and familiar smells, Chloe cried harder than she could remember crying since they’d buried him. That, more than anything else, told Chloe just how broken she still was about it. 

Or… maybe it was _because _of Max she cried as hard as she did. She’d mourned her father with Joyce and on her own, but never with Max, save for a few charged moments in a few calls. And didn’t Max have just as much right to mourn him as Chloe? William had set up their first playdate when they were kindergarteners. He’d taken them to their favorite parks and sightseeing spots. He’d played the big bad guy in so many of their pirate adventures. Most importantly, he’d taught them how to value and cherish their bond. Without him, there might not be a Max and Chloe forever promise. 

In a way, Max was the biggest piece of him she had left.

“Don’t leave me, Max,” she pleaded, clutching to Max like she might vanish any moment. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Never, Chloe,” Max matched the tightness of Chloe’s grip. “I’m here. I’m here.”

“For now, but in a couple days—”

“Only for a little while, okay? As soon as we’re done with school, we’re leaving together. And we’ll have our letters and calls, okay? I’m never leaving you again, even when we’re apart. You hear me, Price?  _ Never.” _

She said it with such conviction. Such passion. One of Chloe’s biggest fears was that everyone she loved would leave her eventually, no matter what they said. But when Max promised her like that? She believed it.

“Thank you,” Chloe whispered.

“Always, Chlo,” Max whispered back. “Always.”

* * *

**Friday**

Max usually found the sunset beautiful. She had entire pages in her albums full of random scenery during the Golden Hour. Was it a bit cliched? Perhaps, but she didn’t particularly care. She’d take pictures of whatever she wanted, damn what anyone else thought. 

She’d taken some of this one, but her heart just wasn’t in it. This sunset marked one day closer to the end of her time with Chloe.

She tried to shove that thought out of her mind and enjoy it while she could. The golden pallor it cast over Arcadia Bay’s beach was breathtaking, as was the shimmering of the tide gently lapping against the shore. She aimed her camera and got another good shot, taking the photo and gently shaking it. Chloe peered over her shoulder at it.

“Looks good, Maximilian!”

Max looked back and raised an eyebrow. “It hasn’t even developed yet.”

“I know. I don’t need to see it to know it’ll look good. You have  _ the gift,”  _ she did jazz hands and put dramatic emphasis on the words.

“Is it like the gift you have for getting on my nerves?”

“That’s not a gift, that’s a  _ calling. _ Two completely different things.”

Max snorted, though she was grinning. They kept walking down the beach, enjoying the feeling of warm sand between their toes. The wind coming off the Bay was a bit cold, but aside from that it was a perfect day. 

_ At least, it would be, if I didn’t have to leave soon…  _

She’d been a bit self conscious about asking Chloe to come out here, worrying they shouldn’t be wasting their time on picture taking sessions and walks when their time was so short. But Chloe had agreed eagerly. She seemed to really mean it when she said that all she needed was Max to have a good time, a sentiment that Max returned.

_ We could have some other good times together, too…  _ She thought in spite of herself, thinking again of their all too brief kiss. She shook her head to banish the thought, though it was getting more difficult. She’d resolved to avoid such thoughts, or the disturbing reasons behind them, until after she left Arcadia. She would  _ not  _ make these last days awkward for them.

But— Damn it, that would be so much easier if Chloe wasn’t so damn  _ pretty,  _ with that smile and those eyes and the sun reflecting off her hair…

Chloe caught her looking and smirked. “See something you like, Caulfield?”

Max pointedly looked over Chloe’s shoulder, then all around them. “Mmmm, nope, nothing I like around here. Just a bunch of sand, the water, and a major pain in my ass.”

Chloe laughed. The sound sent butterflies flapping in Max’s stomach.  _ Stop that!  _ She thought angrily at them.  _ It’s just Chloe, it’s just Chloe…  _

She was starting to think that might be the problem. 

“I’ve missed this,” Chloe said, her tone suddenly somber. “The two of us, walking around, just hanging out, not a care in the world.”

“I know… I’ve made so many new friends in Seattle, but… being around them is  _ work  _ sometimes, you know? I come home from hanging out with them and I need a hefty meal and a nap. I can’t just  _ be  _ with them like I can with you.”

“None of the big city sights make up for it? They’ve probably got better than this shitty excuse for a beach…”

Max looked over at her again. The image was breathtaking. Her face was tilted at such an angle that it caught the sunlight perfectly, the highlights and shadows accenting what beauty was already there. Her eyes shimmered with hints of gold amongst the blue as she looked at Max, a peaceful smile on her lips. 

Max almost reached for her camera, but no lens could possibly capture the perfection in front of her.

“No,” she mumbled. “Nothing compares.”

Chloe snorted. “If you say so, hippie. I’d still like to see them for myself. When I come visit you, you have to take me sightseeing!”

Max grinned at the idea of Chloe coming to Seattle. “Of course! I even know the best pizza and nacho stands in town.”

“Oh  _ fuck yes.  _ We’re gonna get fat on big city food.”

“I mean, I’ve been there for over two years already, and I haven’t—”

“That’s cause you don’t have encouragement. Don’t doubt my pizza eating powers, Maxalot.”

“It’s not doubt in your eating, it’s faith in your metabolism.”

“True, how else could I have this rocking bod?” She ran her hands down her sides for emphasis.

_ Oh god. Don’t look. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it… _

Luckily, Chloe didn’t seem to notice how hot Max’s face had gotten. She kicked absently at some shells poking out of the sand, eyes on the horizon. “I like how small I feel here.”

“You  _ like _ feeling small?”

“Yeah, a little,” she nudged a particularly large shell with her sandal. “It’s… nice to remember that your problems aren’t the end of everything, you know? The world goes on.”

Max thought about that. “Some people might find that scary.”

“Not me. It makes me feel better.”

Max put her camera in her bag, then went over to stand beside her and watch the horizon. The ocean stretched out over incredibly vast distances no person could claim. Against it, Max was less than a speck of dust. For a moment it gave her existential vertigo.

But then she applied Chloe’s way of thinking over it. If she was small… that meant all her worries were too, right? School, her anxiety, her separation from Chloe, none of those things would break her. All of them could be solved, in time. It was a little calming. She could see why Chloe found it appealing.

But… if she accepted that she was small, and her problems were too… that meant so were her blessings.

“I can’t think like that.”

Chloe looked at her. “Oh? Why not?”

“I… I refuse to accept that what we have is small, that it doesn’t matter. That  _ you  _ don’t matter.” Max found herself hugging Chloe for what must’ve been the thousandth time that week. “You may be small to the world, but not to me. Never to me, Chloe Price.”

It took Chloe a couple moments to hug her back. “That… that means a lot to me, Max. And so do you.”

_ This… this feeling I get when she says that, when she holds me… Is it… _

No.  _ No.  _ Not until she was safely away. She would  _ not  _ ruin the time they still had together, or this moment.

Of course, the moment was ruined anyway when Chloe stuck a handful of sand in Max’s hair.

_ “Chloe!”  _ Max shrieked as Chloe giggled. She wriggled out of Chloe’s grip and frantically brushed the grains off her head. “What was that for?”

“A sneak attack of course!” Chloe said as she knelt to scoop up more sand. “Sandball fight!”

Max managed to duck beneath her next attack, swearing and dropping her camera bag. “Oh, you’ll regret that, Price!”

“Prove it, hippie!”

It didn’t take long before Max was laughing along with Chloe as they lobbed clumps of damp sand at each other. Whatever she felt, she knew that Chloe made her happy, could make her feel like a kid again, could make all her troubles and cares disappear no matter how big they seemed. 

For what little time they still had, that was enough.

* * *

**Saturday**

Chloe stared into an infinite abyss, and prayed that dawn would never come.

Max lay beside her in the grass, looking up at the stars with her. Hundreds, thousands of them twinkled up there, many so far away as to be incomprehensible to the human imagination. Trying to take in the vastness of it all was a good way to get existential vertigo, even more so than looking out at the Bay. 

They’d stargazed in Chloe’s backyard before, but never this late. Had to be around midnight by now. As tired as Chloe got, the last thing she wanted to do was sleep.

As soon as she did, morning would come, and Max would leave.

“You know I’d stay if I could,” Max said softly.

“I know,” Chloe replied, her throat tight. “I… I could go with you.”

“What about Blackwell? If you make it in—”

“Fuck Blackwell. I could get some work in Seattle, waiting tables or something, pay rent to your parents—”

“Chloe.”

She sighed heavily. “I know, I know… I just…”

“I know. Me too.”

In lieu of a hug, Max found Chloe’s hand and squeezed it. Chloe squeezed back, but Max made no move to pull her hand away or let go of Chloe.

Her pulse kicked up a notch. Was her hand getting clammy? It definitely was. Could Max tell? Oh god, how mortifying would that be?

“It was a good week though, right?” Max asked.

“The best. So much fun, dumb bullshit—”

“Oh, like me beating your ass in Mario Kart?”

Chloe could hear the smirk on that adorkable face. “I  _ still  _ say you got lucky.”

“Oh? And what about the other seven times I won?”

“Very, very lucky.”

“Hey, look at it this way, you can use the time I’m gone to train for the rematch.”

“True… Though, I’ll probably need to enter indentured servitude to Joyce to pay for all the Two Whales and snacks we ate…”

“Oh god, good point. I think we went through like what, ten pounds of Cheetos?”

“That’s being generous. I don’t think there are any Cheetos left in Arcadia.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll send you some as soon as I get ho— back to Seattle.”

Chloe didn’t miss the sudden change of term there. She wondered at it, and considered asking Max. But then again… maybe it was better if Chloe could believe what she wanted it to mean. 

“So what was the highlight of the week for you?” Chloe asked.

“Easily your reaction when I first got here. The look on your face was…  _ priceless.” _

Chloe facepalmed. “You did  _ not  _ just—”

“Yes I did, and I’d do it again. You were so excited to see me… it was cute. And it made me feel special.”

Damn it. Chloe couldn’t stay mad at her when she said shit like that. “You  _ are  _ special, Max… even if your jokes are terrible.”

“You just wish you had jokes as good as mine.”

“In your dreams, Caulfield.”

They laughed and squeezed each others’ hands, but there was an undercurrent of anxiety to their laughter.  _ Why does this have to end,  _ it seemed to say.  _ Why can’t we just stay here together, forever? _

_ Because nothing good can last,  _ that disgusting voice in the back of Chloe’s mind answered.

_ Not us,  _ Chloe insisted.  _ You can split us apart, but we will last. I know we will. _

_ And maybe… eventually… _

“What about you?” Max’s voice cut off that chain of thought. “What was the highlight for you?”

Chloe smirked. “Oh, that’s easy. You see, I got to kiss this  _ really  _ cute girl—”

“Oh my  _ god,”  _ Max let go of Chloe’s hand, presumably to cover her face with both hands.

“And she was really into it, in fact, she even asked  _ me  _ to kiss  _ her—” _

“Please, shut up,” Max groaned.

Chloe laughed and gave Max a minute to calm down. She smiled when Max reached for her hand again. “Yeah… It was my first ever kiss, and I’m glad I got to share it with someone so special to me. I’m really lucky to have met that girl.”

Max was quiet for a moment, her hand fidgeting in Chloe’s. “R-Really? Well… I got to share my first kiss with someone special, too.”

“Mmmm… sounds like a pretty good week to me.”

“It was… I doubt it’ll ever be topped.”

“Oh, it will, once we see each other again, right?”

“Damn right.”

They kept holding hands and staring at the distant stars. Chloe kept hoping for a shooting star to flash across the void so she could wish for time to freeze in this moment. Or, even better, to wake up at the beginning of this wonderful week and do it all again… But then, she supposed, it would stop being special. 

_ Or maybe it wouldn’t. I think, no matter how much time we had together, I would cherish every moment with Max the same. _

_ Because I know what it’s like to live without her, and I can barely call it living. _

Even so, these last few hours were precious beyond measure. She had no way of knowing when they would next see each other. Their calls and letters couldn’t compare to the feeling of holding her, seeing her smile, making her laugh. In fact, as good as holding her hand was…

Chloe let go of Max. Her protests were quickly silenced when Chloe shimmied right up against her and threw that arm around her shoulders. She could barely make out Max’s smile in the starlight as she lifted her head to let Chloe’s arm under it. She threw her arm up and around Chloe too. It took some fidgeting to get them both comfortable, but the result was much better.

_ No… If there ever comes a day where I take this for granted, that’s how I’ll know that Chloe Price is either dead, or may as well be. _

* * *

**Sunday**

Max had hoped and prayed against all odds that the bus wouldn’t come. Chloe prayed right along with her. It was all in vain.

Max watched with tears in her eyes as it rounded the corner, heading in her direction. Coming to steal away her joy, her reason for laughing and smiling. Irrationally, Chloe found herself hating the man who drove it. Why did he have to show up on time? Could he not have been one minute later, or gotten a flat tire or something to delay him further?

Max turned to face Chloe. They embraced tightly, the force of Chloe’s hug squeezing the breath right out of Max. 

“Call me as soon as you get home, okay?”

“The instant I get there. Promise.”

“And I expect a letter from you within the week!”

Max laughed. “Snail mail willing! That’s not on me.”

“Then do your best. And it better have a selfie!”

“I’ll throw in two, just for you.”

“You spoil me, Caulfield.”

“You deserve it, Price.”

The bus pulled up to the curb. Its doors slid open. Max lingered in Chloe’s arms for a few moments longer, then pulled away. It was like pulling away from the warmth of fire in a raging blizzard. 

“Until next time, Captain,” Max said with a sad smile.

Chloe gave a sloppy salute with a tearful smile of her own. “Smooth sailing to ye, matey.”

Max picked up her bags, took a deep breath, and stepped aboard the bus. She paused at the top of the steps to cast a lingering look back at Chloe, who gave her a thumbs up. The door slid closed, cutting them off once again.

Max hurried to the back of the bus, heedless of knocking her bags against the other seats. As the bus shifted into motion, she pressed her face against the back window. Chloe was still standing there, crying as she waved. Max waved back, not caring who saw or heard her own crying. She stayed there, watching and waving, until the bus rounded a corner, and Chloe was gone from sight.

Chloe lowered her arm as soon as the bus was gone. Behind her, she felt Joyce put a gentle hand on her shoulder. Chloe touched it and nodded in thanks, trying to blink away the tears.

_ She’s gone… _

When she got back home, Chloe immediately went to her room and curled up in bed. The remains of their fun were scattered around, from loose comic pages to the sandwich chart. In spite of the hollow ache she felt, she couldn’t help but smile.

Max curled up in the back seat of the bus, watching Arcadia until it disappeared behind the trees and hills. She took out several of the polaroids she’d taken of their antics, gently brushing her thumb across an excellent image of Chloe’s face. Even as tears dripped onto the photo, she let herself smile.

For a long while after, they’d both sit or lay locked in their own minds, playing back every moment a thousand times. Their most intimate moments were of particular interest, each tender word worthy of special consideration. And, of course, there was the kiss. They both relived that more than they knew was healthy.

Each girl was searching for something, buried in the laughter and the smiles. An answer to the cauldrons of confusing feelings that swirled deep within. The answer lay in the intimate moments, the tender words, and, naturally, the kiss. 

They finally found it, hours after their parting.

_ Oh my god,  _ Max thought as the scenery rushed past the bus window.

“Oh fuck,” Chloe whispered in the dark confines of her room.

_ I… think I… _

“I… I totally…”

_ “Have a crush on her.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the extensive delay, but the world kinda flipped upside down in the last few months, eh? Hope this was worth the wait!
> 
> There'll be a big time jump between this chapter and the next. Gotta keep things moving along! Look forward to it!


End file.
